Siblings
by Lord Infinity
Summary: In the turning midsummer, Jared Sandeye struggles with a hefty blacksmithing commission, while his sister Madeline tries to make sense of her emerging puberty. As they navigate the source of a newfound stress, they remember the importance of family.
1. The Gardener and the Blacksmith

Mossflower Forest was wondrously illuminated by the golden midsummer sun, coloring the emerald-green trees in its bright heavenly amber, sparkling like jewels on the morning dew, and causing the leaves and plants to glow an otherworldly aura. So too did it illuminate a large glass and wood greenhouse neatly tucked away in the western corners of Redwall Abbey, shining through spotless rectangular glass window panes onto rows and rows of flowerpots. This supernatural amalgamation of flowers cast a brilliant kinetic rainbow over the area, a spellbinding sense of comfort, peace and wonder over all under its light. Much to great fortune, right in the middle of it there worked a young teenage squirrelmaid.

Madeline Sandeye lifted her small indigo watering can up to a row of blooming periwinkles in their brown terracotta flowerpots. As she poured out a meticulous amount of water through the cap holes, the fusion of colorless water with pink and red roses enhanced the shine of the reflecting kaleidoscope.

Madeline marveled at the simple magnificence while adjusting her short tan gardener's tunic and digging her toes deeper into her wicker sandals. Then, turning on her heel, she walked to the other side of the greenhouse before repeating the action for a group of budding young marigolds. At the end of a small path of solid stone pavers between freshly-laid grass stood a wooden cushioned desk chair, well away from the parallel lines of plants. The squirrelmaid wiped beads of sweat from her brow, plopped herself down in the chair, and set the watering can aside on the grass. Her mind fell into practical thoughts as she surveyed her work.

She'd been here for the past couple of hours or so since breakfast this morning in Redwall Abbey. A gardener at heart, she knew her inner nature to be far more than that. Her love for this art ran deeper than any Abbeydweller could comprehend. Madeline kept that secret extremely close to herself.

Her mind wandered off to another squirrel like her, one other who shared a similar craft, but to a more materialistic shape. But she otherwise deeply admired him and his chosen style.

Jared Sandeye, her older brother.

As his name entered her mind, she felt her heart grow wings and rise in her chest. Her older brother, who loved her more than anybeast in the entire world. He inherited the family craft of blacksmithing and metalwork. Jared, her dear brother – who unfortunately sometimes got so caught up in his work that he'd even forget to eat.

She didn't hold back a much-needed laugh at the ridiculous thought, followed up by a slightly disapproving shake of her head. Looking up again, she examined the brightening rays of the sun piercing the glass windows of the greenhouse. She too had become so busy that time had literally flown past her. Noon crept up from behind and she'd scarcely noticed. The time came for lunch at Redwall Abbey.

She got up for the last time and proceeded to clean up the greenhouse, emptying the last streams of water onto a nearby daffodil, then putting the can back onto the chair. She opened a tall wooden closet standing near the front door, wiped her face of sweat with a small towel, and changed out of the gardener's tunic into a classic sleeveless plain-white ankle-length dress. Then she left and locked up the greenhouse, and returned inside to tag behind the other Abbeydwellers on their way to lunch.

Down in homely Cavern Hole, she took a minute to socialize with the other creatures there who sat down to eat, then approached the chefs. Reylia, the short, pudgy, and upbeat Dormouse Abbey Friar, promptly helped her pack a burlap sack of her brother's favorite raisin-blueberry scones, white bread rolls fresh out of the oven with creamy almond butter, and finally a small jug of ice-cold Mint Tea. Thanking the Friar and bidding farewell to her fellow Abbeydwellers, she prepared herself to make the ¼ mile trek to her brother's blacksmith forge.

The sun continued its illumine mastercraft of painting the Forest in glittering gold as Madeline hiked through it. As she left Redwall and stepped onto the long dirt road, she was surrounded by a radiant cloak of trees, bathing her in the peaceful ambience of glowing evergreens, muted gray ash, dark oak and light maple, all speckled with the last remnants of the early morning dew now drying in the heat of the noontime sun. She balanced the delicate bag and jug in the crooks of her elbows, weightless in her thin squirrelmaid arms. Shaking her sandals, she walked an unhurried quarter-mile before exiting the beaten path and stepping into the undergrowth. The trees around her pointed the way.

It wasn't long before she came to the familiar evergreen clearing, a perfect circle decorated by trees and flower and berry bushes. The forge itself proudly perched fifteen feet both tall and wide in the shape of a cube upon an elevated grassy stone platform. It was painted a pure charcoal black, the bronze casement windows on its four walls temporarily closed. The standard brick chimney protruded from the eastern side of the angled shingle roof, and the weather vane in the corner always faced eastwards. The lack of any breeze today kept the vane immovably still, and similarly, the absence of smoke floating out of the steel grille on the chimney meant the furnace was empty and unlit. Outside, a pedal-operated grinding stone and a protracted iron workbench lay unused against the south wall; the blacksmith used these for sharpening and refining weapons, or improving the durability and fit of armor.

These aforementioned signs did not bother Madeline as she descended a short rocky stairway onto the grass. As she noted to the oaken door in her line of sight, the sounds of two voices seriously conversing reached her ears.

"…and you want this by Saturday?" asked the first, a casual enunciated late-teens bass-baritone she unmistakably discerned as her brother's.

"Correct, Sandeye," confirmed the second, a middle-aged male, gruffer and rougher as if speaking through an itching throat. "I want it delivered promptly that morning after your breakfast time. Understood?"

"Completely," replied Jared in a deadpan tone laced in his typical sarcasm. Madeline giggled at the familiar snark that her brother commonly used as she patiently waited near the trees.

In the corner of her eye, she spied the open stable door. Inside its frame dwelt Jared Sandeye himself, barefoot and clothed in his brown-red long-sleeved blacksmith's leather apron, over his typical outfit of a simple tan V-neck cloth shirt and khaki trousers stretching barely over his bony knees. He leaned casually to one side of the doorway, holding open a heavy commission ledger and a charcoal pen. A chubby hedgehog stood in front on the ground, unnecessarily overdressed in a fancy azure double-breasted tunic adorned by frilly white lace wrist cuffs, long heel-length leaf-green pants, and dark brown hiking boots.

"You know the reasons why I've commissioned this of you, Sandeye." The hedgehog continued, not letting up his gruffness and jabbing an emphasizing finger at the squirrel. "My son's birthday is approaching."

"Christopher will have his gift, Gaddron." Jared rolled his eyes impatiently, and expectantly raised the pen above the pages of his ledger. "But I need more details than just what vagueness you've given me."

"'Vagueness'?" Gaddron repeated the word as if it offended him. "Might I mention that I came to you for a reason! Valia claims you are the best smith in Mossflower, as you once forged an amethyst silver bracelet for her just last month! Have you forgotten that? So, I decided to see for myself! What more do you need to know, boy?"

Jared pushed himself off the side of the doorway he was leaning on and stretched to his fullest height. "Gaddron, I distinctly memorize every single thing I've ever forged. So far, the bracelet I crafted for your wife is my favorite creation this season. Second, I'm not really moved by your flattery. I am only doing my job because it's my living, and my parents' living before me. Thirdly, you can expect me to deliver perfectly on what Christopher wants for his birthday. You may rest assured just of that. Now, if you please, reiterate for me exactly what it is you need."

Gaddron heaved a stressed sigh. From within the trees, Madeline stuffed the handles of the burlap sack in her mouth to avoid laughing out loud.

"For Christopher, a sterling silver ring with a peridot inset." Gaddron described. "_Strictly _sterling silver, boy, and an _uncut_ peridot. Write that down. Christopher is turning eighteen, and has always harbored admiration for fine simple jewelry. So, I feel this present appropriate for him. I've already given you the measurements for his index finger. Is that clear?"

He scratched his spiky head as he wracked the brains to remember the other commission.

"As for myself, I wish for an iron sword. Hilt and blade of iron, preferably 12 inches long, with a wide quillon with a rectangular cross-section, and a flat handle. I want a round pommel stone, polished until it shines in the sun. That's no problem for you, eh? You can pull it off, I'm sure."

Gaddron stepped up to the solid stone threshold between the forest dirt and the forge entrance, staring Jared hard in the eyes. Much to his hidden dismay, the squirrel barely reacted.

The hedgehog narrowed his eyes. "Remember what I have said to you. You say you are the best blacksmith in Mossflower. My wife shares the sentiment. Be on time on Saturday for myself and Christopher. Prove Valia right. Prove me right. Good day."

He swept a beige lederhosen cap adorned with a frayed eagle feather onto his head, spun right around, and took off the down the dirt road westwards. Jared waited silently until Gaddron had disappeared from sight before he grumbled and slammed the ledger shut in frustration. He was about to turn back to re-enter the forge before his enhanced ears twitched. An ear-to-ear grin spread across his teenage features, and his ears twitched more reflexively to focus better on the sound of his sister's giggles. He laid the book aside on a counter and stripped off his suffocating smith's apron before stepping out onto the leather welcome mat.

"I can hear you, sis!" He called into the trees. "That idiot's gone, come on out!"

At last, Madeline let her laughter loose and emerged from the undergrowth to meet her brother. She carefully placed the sack and jug on an oak tree stump and squeaked as Jared scooped her up in his muscled loving embrace.

"Bronzespike?" She jokingly guessed, not holding back a smirk as her brother returned her to the ground.

"Stubborn as ever," Jared muttered in a frustrated low voice, planting a kiss on her brow. "Ring and sword, all before this coming Saturday."

"I'm sure you can handle it, Jared." Madeline seated herself cross-legged on the ground before the stump, and invited her brother to do the same. She opened the sack and pulled out the food, first the scones then the bread and butter. "You've always been good at figuring stuff out."

Jared exhaled in surprise at the small tasty spread that Madeline put out. "Wow! You got all our favorites!"

Madeline giggled again and removed two ceramic teacups and saucers, into which she poured the Mint Tea, and passed one to her brother. "Yes, I did! I always remember our favorite foods at Redwall Abbey, and you can count on me to bring only the best for both of us." She then leaned over the stump, resting her elbows on it, her eyes affectionately curious.

"So, dear brother, how was your morning?"

Jared sighed sarcastically and shook his head as he started to spread the creamy almond butter on his slice of white bread. "So boring. If my patrons are still in Mossflower and haven't yet traveled southwest for the autumn, then maybe I can deliver the Monday and Tuesday commissions. But besides that, nothing new came today, until Bronzespike showed up over the past fifteen minutes. Yeah, now I've got his stubborn spiky tail on my back, and he's not getting off me anytime soon."

"Oh, dear," Madeline grinned, sipping her tea, then putting it aside and picking up a raisin-blueberry scone. "I feel your stress, Jared. But I'm sure you can do this. You're my favorite blacksmith ever, did you know that?"

"Not everyone in the Forest shares your opinion, Maddie." Jared politely informed her, but his eyes betrayed a warm gratitude, his determination increased by the gesture. "But, thank you. It makes me feel a lot better."

"How's the greenhouse looking, sis?" He asked now, taking a bite of his bread.

Maddie's cocoa eyes twinkled in the sunlight, and she smiled dreamily, her mind drifting off into imaginations, her scone halfway to her mouth. It's so beautiful! The way the flowers radiate so brilliantly in the sunlight, it must be seen to be believed! You absolutely must come and visit sometime, Jared, see the colors for yourself!"

"I'll make sure to do that! You can rely on me." Jared chuckled and slowly chewed his bread, closing his eyes and savoring the thick taste of the butter.

"Speaking of color," Maddie looked around at the empty silent forge. "I think this place could really use some sprucing up."

Jared's eyes snapped open, and he looked over his shoulder at his metalwork building. "Why? I think it looks fine."

"No way!" Madeline threw her paws up in mock protest. "It looks so dull! All the black and brown is so boring, makes it look dead!"

"Brilliance in simplicity, Maddie." Jared explained, only half-listening and eating his last bite of bread. "It's fine, honestly. Why mess with perfection?"

Maddie rolled her eyes and went back to her scone. "Whatever you say."

Jared copied her action, smirking again. "Come on. You're 14 seasons old now. You'd better start learning to act your age, young lady."

"And you need to start learning to make your side of the bed!" Maddie put her paws on her hips somewhat authoritatively, as if scolding her brother, much as she enjoyed his instinctual sass. "I've had to do it for you for the past week! You're so lazy about it and I won't take that anymore!" She caught herself angry and bit her left cheek in apprehension, a habit of hers when hiding something.

Jared wiped crumbs off his paws on a napkin from the pack and stared at Maddie sympathetically. "You know you can tell me anything, sis. I'm your brother. If something is going on, tell me. Please don't hide your secrets from me."

"It's nothing, all right?" Madeline snapped at him. "I'm a little anxious, is all. But I'll be fine. Can we change the subject, please?"

When her brother nodded his consent, albeit reluctantly, she pressed her mind for another idea. Her face brightened up when a particularly amusing one popped into her head.

"So…" She began to tease, taking her tea and sipping it. "Have you and Larina talked lately?" It was her turn to lean forwards and joke, her expression clearly flirtatious.

As she expected, Jared blushed a light pink, and he began to stumble slightly over his words. "Er, no…I mean…er, not lately…No, not as far back as I can remember."

Maddie snickered into her tea. "You're a terrible liar, Jared. You know, Larina told me about what happened between you two during that rainstorm last week."

Shock slapped itself across Jared's face, and he stopped himself in time before his teacup fell from his paws. "She did? Did she? That – that was a coincidence! I mean, uh…She-she didn't have an umbrella, and it was freezing cold out in the rain, so, um…I gave mine to her. Simple as that! I can't believe she told you about it! Did she really?"

Maddie barely contained her laughter now, falling over on her side and holding her stomach. "I'll say no more, Jared! You'll have to ask her about it yourself!"

She heard him muttering under his breath, and decided it was time to stop pushing him. When she straightened up, he'd finished the last scone and packed everything else back into the burlap bag.

"What will you do now, Jared?"

Jared glanced from his forge to her and did not speak for a few seconds. "Well, since there's nobeast around in Mossflower, I can return to the Abbey. I'll check back here again, after dinner."

Madeline clapped her paws together and squeaked adorably. "Yes! I was hoping you'd say that!"

At last, she pulled herself to her feet and helped Jared to his, before fetching the sack, and swinging it over her shoulder. Paw in paw, they headed down the path back to Redwall Abbey together.

* * *

Redwall Abbey's lawns were relatively bare when they returned, as the majority of the residents remained at lunch. Jared and Madeline let themselves in through the Main Gate.

"I guess I'll go wash really quick," Jared informed Madeline, tracing the lines of his sticky face. "I've got to get all of this sweat off of me. You don't mind?"

"No, not at all." Madeline shook her head, smiling warmly and adjusting the bag over her shoulder. "I need to return this stuff to Friar Reylia, anyway. Catch you later, brother!"

After crossing the cloisters and re-entering the Abbey hallways, they went their separate ways, Jared to the washroom and Madeline back to Cavern Hole.

The Mouse Friar Reylia gratefully retook the burlap sack and empty jug. She'd later wash and reuse them for dinner that evening, though still a couple or so hours away.

Her task complete and feeling quite proud of herself, Madeline settled down on a wooden bench beside a gaggle of creatures who were just finishing up their meals. One by one, they ate the last bites of their food, washed their dishes and utensils, and then filed out of the room, eventually leaving her alone. She rested her head sideways on her elbows lengthwise across the mahogany table, facing the stairs and watching the others disappear from sight. When the chefs approached her inquiring about orders, she kindly brushed them off and continued in her quiet contemplations.

Young as she was, a mere 14 seasons, Madeline Sandeye never lived without her heart, more knowledgeable than her age showed. Ahead of her mind, in a sense. But that didn't mean she lacked the experiences of being an actual teenager. Her mind opened wider and more insightful than it ever did in her childhood. She saw and learned far more of the world and of line than maybe she felt used to, things she considered or wanted to consider. Then the fact of her body changing bothered her greatly, but she dared not entertain those wild physical thoughts.

Finally, against her better logic, she'd recently discovered herself noticing the male squirrels of the Abbey of her age – and more than she even wanted to. Great seasons help her Eastern heart if some of those males weren't honestly very good-looking…

Something else also hung over her, clouds of some kind, and not of a positive nature. It seemed as though her heart, weighed down by an unfamiliar burden, was trying to tell her something. But she couldn't discern exactly what. If she could, no doubt it would be either dismissed with denial, or explored in detail. She hoped for neither.

Her ears twitched at the sounds of footsteps descending the stone stairs, and pushed herself off her elbows and sat up straight. Down the steps came her brother, his outfit unchanged and his forehead bangs and face still dripping wet from his wash. Her youthful energy shone through her face again as Jared seated himself beside her, wrapping a fond arm around her shoulders.

"Are you all right, sis?" he asked in genuine concern. "You look troubled."

Madeline knew she couldn't hide her problems from him any longer, and so spoke up in the most confident tone possible. "Well…" Yet she found it difficult to find the proper words. "I feel like something is seriously wrong with me."

Jared furrowed his brow and stared deep into her eyes, confused. "Is it your puberty? Are your allergies acting up again? Because either way, you know we can talk to Sister Falmur about whatever questions you have –,"

"No that's not it at all," Madeline pecked his cheeks to comfort him, and brushed a couple wet locks of hair out of his eyes. "You know I deeply admire Sister Falmur. But you see, that's not my case! No, I'm sure it's something else." She assumed, nestling himself into his sweet tender embrace, and sighing cluelessly. "It might be the season? Or the month?"

"Then it's nothing physical, thank goodness." Jared exhaled in relief. He reached a paw up and began intertwining his fingers in her smooth curved squirrel hair, while he dug through his own mind for words.

"You know, I've been feeling rather strange myself lately. Maybe it's the commissions, or maybe it's something else. I don't know. But they're stressing me out too. Whatever has happened or is happening, I swear, Maddie, we'll figure it out together."

Maddie sighed contently and laid her head on Jared's toned muscular chest, her eyes closing. Anxiously, she asked him, "You're not going to go back to the forge later like you planned, are you?"

"Of course not, sis." Jared promised. He happily picked her up under her legs, and as he got to his feet, swung her off the bench and into his arms. "I'll stay with you for as long, as you need me. Gaddron Bronzespike can wait. He's an impatient idiot, anyway. Let's go take a blissful long nap before dinner, shall we?"

Beaming, Madeline wrapped her arms around his neck as they ascended the stairs and made their way to the dormitories. She placed her weary head for the last time on his chest, enjoying the light sound of his shoes on the floor.

"That's my big brother."

* * *

When Madeline awoke a couple hours later, she immediately felt the bed feeling slightly lighter, and colder. She recognized the sudden absence of the loving familial warmth of her older brother. Her eyes opened to see his side of the bed empty – and neatly – _carefully_ made with loving care, blankets and pillows and all.

_Has he gone back to the forge? At this time of night? But it's almost dinnertime! I pray he hasn't gone without a snack, at least!_

But then, it wasn't in her nature to worry, she suddenly supposed. Jared was 16 seasons old, after all; more than capable of providing for himself. It _was _Redwall Abbey, all things considered.

Madeline pushed the covers off and practically threw herself out of bed. She opened her dresser and hurriedly donned a red-and-white striped blouse, before leaving the bedroom proper and making her way down to Cavern Hole for dinner.

But deep down in her heart, as she sat down at a table, she couldn't help but deeply wonder…

_Jared, what are you doing?_


	2. Son of the Steel and Silver

Inside the cubed black-walled forge, Jared pushed the full weight of his body on the vertical accordion bellows beside his furnace, and watched in speechless awe as the flames chaotically burst to life, wrapping around and springing up from inside the parched and spotless charcoal forge, coating him in a warm aura of yellow and orange.

While the fire took its time to rise, Jared spent a short minute to stare around the space. It included only what was needed for his work and excluded anything flashy or unnecessary. Everything was straightforward: waist-height counters and drawers for his tools and boxes lining the walls, and a 75-pound steel forging anvil in the middle, perched on a wooden platform. Nothing more or less. Already, the thin charred crisp smell of the first wisps of smoke already emanating from the furnace wafted under his nostrils.

Jared straightened his blue-green blacksmith's apron and walked to the counter to the left of the furnace. He opened a drawer and removed a locked rectangular steel box, followed by a pair of flat tongs; slipping a claw into the lock, he unlatched it and flipped the box open.

Inside this box was a collection of small silver crystals, mined and imported straight from the underground caverns of Githinien, one of the Eastern Islands. While the Githinien creatures kept the majority of the silver (as well as whatever other precious metals they mined) to use for their own purposes, they imported a sufficient 45% straight to Jared for use in his blacksmithing. The graceful Githinien natives were widely known across the Eastern Seaboard for their selfless and warm-hearted generosity, and Jared deeply admired them for it.

Using an iron scoop, Jared carefully removed a small handful of the silver crystals from the box, and put them on the counter; then reached to the far back and pulled out a pair of large brass scales. Once upon a time, these scales had actually belonged to the Abbey. But many seasons ago, they had broken down beyond repair from overuse. The Abbey creatures at first planned to throw out the scales within the weekend. When Jared first built his blacksmith's forge less than a single season ago, he offered to restore the scales good as new, out of the goodness of his heart. So, that's exactly what he did, combining the original brass with pure Eastern silver and restoring the scales to their former shape.

These same he now used to weigh the silver crystals he'd previously scooped out of the box. He knelt down on the stone floor of the forge and examined it at eye level, meticulously placing a cooper weight on the right-side scale. He removed crystals as needed with a pair of tweezers and dropped them back in the box. The scales swung effortlessly into balance. Jared smiled to himself in satisfaction, cleared the scales and put them aside. He returned the silver crystals into the iron scoop and brought them over to the opposite counter.

_Next, the cuttlebone mold! _

The last thing he removed from the drawers was, of course, his trusty toolbox. So far, over the past two seasons since he began his blacksmithing career, the tools in this iron box had never yet failed him. He was more than confident they'd succeed as they always have and had.

Like the other box with the silver crystals, he opened it with his claw and took out his jeweler's saw. Curiously to even its owner's surprise, this saw had never once dulled or blunted. Perhaps it was the Eastern metal he forged it from, or just sheer dumb luck combined with his attentiveness and meticulous care for his tools. In any case, it still remained as sharp as ever.

The 14-inch cuttlebone lay untouched at the bottom of the toolbox surrounded by knives and files. Jared gently pushed the latter tools aside and pulled out the cuttlebone and a carving knife. Placing the spiral blade horizontally along the bone, he studiously began to remove its pointy corners and cut it cleanly in half. He then shaped and trimmed the outside edge with the carving knife and sanded the blunt edge, collecting the dust in a pail.

After painstakingly sanding, carving out the mold, and pressing a blank ring into the surface to create the casting shape, the cuttlefish was at last ready for use. To finish, he brushed away the excess dust from the mold into the pail, before binding it together with wire and setting in a pumice pan contained inside a stone soldering box.

_Now comes the fun part!_

He gathered the silver crystals in a short ceramic crucible. This, too, had been imported to him from the island of Githinien. Special secret minerals inside the ceramic itself eliminated the need for powder to eliminate oxides in the metal. Clamping it firmly between a pair of tongs, he placed the crucible in the middle of the energetic fire and left it to melt the silver.

Jared leaned back beside the anvil and looked on in humbled silence at the smelting process. The wonders of blacksmith never ceased to amaze him. The limitless capabilities of fire to do what he could not do himself constantly purged him of pride and taught him to know his own limits as a metalworker.

A knock at the stable door shook him out of his silent observation. He pushed himself upright and went to answer it.

There standing casually on the dirt patch below the threshold was a young tan male hedgehog barely short of 18 seasons old. He was dressed in a brown sleeveless belted soft-leather tunic. A second belt hung diagonal from his left shoulder to his hip. A cheerful youthful glint shone in his ruby-red eyes, and he smiled brighter than the fire in the furnace.

Recognizing him instantly, Jared matched his visitor's smile. "Christopher!"

Christopher Bronzespike put out his fist, and Jared bumped it with his own. "Hey, Jared! What's up? I just came to see how you were doing after my father visited you yesterday."

Jared scanned the workplace over his shoulder, the crucible melting inside in the fire, and the tied cuttlefish lying idle in the stone box. "Well, I've started making the materials for your birthday ring. Other than that, not much else. It's been a…rather boring week." He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm grateful your father has finally given me something exciting to do, even if it did come from him."

Christopher snickered into his gloves and grinned from ear to ear. "Yeah, well, my parents have always been obsessed with having the best of everything. I disapprove of their vain and materialistic ways of life, myself. But if my father has broken the monotony of your idleness, then I'm sure he means the best. You'll just have to excuse him."

Jared smirked harmlessly. "You are turning 18, Chris. You are at the noble age. I've still got 2 seasons to go, myself. I also don't much see the benefits of materialism. Wealth isn't everything; there are better things in life than just physical riches. There are longer-lasting and more meaningful pursuits. But you are reaching your rite of passage, Chris. So, you deserve only the best."

He stepped aside and opened the door wider, inviting the hedgehog inside. "Why don't you come in? Shall I show you how the ring is coming along?"

Christopher chuckled and gladly stepped into the forge. "I'd be honored, Jared!"

The hedgehog gasped in wonder at the smithy. His mind whirled at the fine detail and roved from the ceiling to the counters. "Cuttlefish casting!" He bent down and observed the empty fish bones sitting in the pumice pan on the left-side counter at an angle. "I've heard of this technique. Never seen it up close, though!"

Jared grinned at him and grabbed the tongs holding the ceramic crucible. "Then consider this a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity." He attentively lifted it from out of the fire and over to the cuttlefish in the clamps. "1, 2, 3!" And he poured all the molten silver into the casting channel.

A bit of excess fell from the crucible and landed in the stone box as expected. Jared set the crucible aside and closed the furnace.

Christopher's eyes grew as round as the moon shining in from the window. "Wow! That's amazing!" He took a gander at Jared in anticipation. "What happens now?"

Jared's humble grin grew from ear to ear, and he raised his finger to signal Christopher to be patient. "Now, we just wait. The silver will solidify inside the cuttlebone and form the ring inside the mold. Don't worry, I followed your finger measurements exactly." The amateur blacksmith leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the other creature in evident curiosity. "You've heard of cuttlefish casting before? Do you have an interest in jewelry making, then?"

Christopher nodded shamelessly. "I do, Jared. My parents think it's a wasteful pursuit, though. A waste of precious materials, so they say. They want me to become a scholar or a historian when I'm older."

Jared scoffed at the foolish notion, shaking his head. "Blacksmithing and jewelry making are not wasteful pursuits. In fact, they are among the most noble professions of our age. They do not waste precious materials; they combine those materials into something even greater."

He pointed at the molten silver inside the cuttlefish, stationary inside the stone box. "Look at that. Your ring will be forged of silver scraps combined together into a beautiful piece of jewelry, adorned with a gemstone. That's not waste, Christopher. That's art."

Christopher clasped his paws together as if praying. His pink eyes shone enthusiastically. "I don't care what my parents say. My heart has been set on becoming a jeweler ever since you made that bracelet for my mother! You're the best blacksmith in Mossflower! Maybe you can teach me!"

Jared put his palms up to stop the hedgehog from saying another word. "Whoa there! I am not the certified expert in Mossflower! There are far better smiths than me out there in the world, for sure! I'm not qualified to be a teacher in the slightest! Plus, I'm way younger than you!"

"Why not?" Christopher shrugged a tad incredulously. "You're Mossflower's resident metal genius!"

Jared found it impossible to argue with this sound logic. Yet, he remained bashful. "I'm not a resident metal genius, Chris." He winked reassuringly. "I'm an artist. I'm a creator. Every single thing I cast and forge is its own individual work of art. A bracelet, a ring; a sword or a dagger. Each is an art piece of its own. It's the same way a painter, or a sculptor, or even a writer would take pride in their art; the same way do I always put a part of myself in everything I make inside this building.

"The anvil is my canvas, the metals are my paints, the fire is my refiner, and the hammers and tools are my signature. The fundamental law of art is that it possesses some fraction of the soul of the one who made it."

He reached over and tapped his spiky friend's forehead. "Let me give you some advice. If you do decide to follow your heart and become a jeweler, the only limit you have is your imagination. Pour your heart into your passions and follow the promptings of your soul. Anything is possible if you put your whole mind, body, and spirit into it."

Christopher's eyes glinted admirable confidence. "You can teach me the basics at least, right?"

The ever-modest Jared nodded consentingly. "You said I'm a genius, Christopher. I'll never truly be that. But I can teach you anything you want, to the best of my ability."

Christopher stared at the hardening silver in the cuttlefish bones. "Who taught you to be a blacksmith, may I ask?"

Jared did not answer for half a minute. Christopher could sense his anxious silence.

"I'm sorry." He hung his head slightly in apology. "I asked out of turn."

Jared patted him on the shoulder again. "No, you did not." He told his friend in a startlingly somber voice, a contrast to the tone of cheerfulness he had shared seconds earlier. He turned around and laid his palms on the surface of the anvil, his back to his guest. Another half-minute passed in silence, until he found the strength to speak again. "My father…Dane Sandeye…He taught me the art of blacksmithing, jeweling, and metalwork. I learned it from him. It's to him we should both give the credit. Without him and his mentorship, I…"

He heaved out his breath, unsteady and discernibly timorous.

Christopher reached out a paw as if to touch him, but hesitated. "Jared…will you be okay?"

The blacksmith gripped the horn in his right paw and the hanging edge in his left. "Yeah…Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

* * *

Half an hour later, the silver hardened into a perfect ring shape inside the cuttlefish. Jared had spent the past time teaching Christopher about basic smithing and jeweling techniques, giving the hedgehog an up-front paws-on experience: demonstrating how to hold and handle the tools, encouraging him to pump the bellows of the furnace, and the processes of silver casting. He even recommended a list of books to read in the grand library of Redwall Abbey, transcribing them in charcoal on a scrap of loose-leaf parchment. Then, when it came time to inspect the mold, Jared turned the attention to the cuttlefish.

"You see this binding?" He indicated the wires wrapping the bones together. "Look at the sprue gate, too. When that's black, it's ready to be opened." He removed a small knife from his toolbox and used it to slice the binding wires apart.

"A distinctive quality of Eastern silver is that it cools faster than typical silver does anywhere else in our world. Honestly, I have no idea how that works. But it does. Perhaps it's an Eastern thing. In any case, it's safe to open the mold and see the finished product. Here we go!"

He separated the bones and laid them face up so the hedgehog could see. Inside one of them lay a perfectly round sterling silver ring. Jared smiled bashfully at his friend. "There it is, Christopher! This is your birthday present right here! Pass me the tweezers and a brass brush from my toolbox, please?"

Christopher gladly obeyed. Jared peeled the ring out of the burnt bone and brushed it. A couple dips in two bowls of pickle flux and soapy water later, and at last, it was complete.

Christopher held it flat in his paw. "The purity of Eastern metal…It practically radiates from every inch of the jewelry!"

"All it needs now is the peridot," Jared added. "Maybe I can solder that in while the night is still young."

He returned the brass brush and tweezers to the toolbox and opened a drawer to dig for his gem supply. "Give it to me. I can solder in the peridot right now."

But Chris simply placed it back in the stone container. "You shouldn't, Jared. The evening has fled from both our sights. It is no younger. The moon hangs high above the trees, and in the summer, the night does not last long. I suggest you do that tomorrow."

Jared restrained himself from slamming his fists on the counter. "No! I can't quit while I'm ahead! There's still time!"

"No, there's not!" Christopher stated firmly, an innocent authority in his deep bass adult voice. "It's probably the end of dinnertime at Redwall. They may be putting the food away already. Everyone is going to bed. Your sister is probably worried sick about you! Would you want her to go to sleep with the fear of whether or not you're coming home lingering in her mind?"

Jared did not meet the hog's eyes, clenching and unclenching his fists around the uncut peridot sparkling in the flames. Finally, he sighed in resignation.

"All right. You win, Chris. You're right. I'll close up for the day."

* * *

The duo emptied the furnace of hot coals, packed up the tools, and locked up the forge for the night. Together, they traveled the road back to Redwall Abbey and parted ways at the Main Gate. Jared helped himself inside and practically sprinted down to Cavern Hole.

Just in time! The Redwallers had barely begun to pack away dinner. Friar Raymond, the black-and-white mouse, and his chefs gathered the last of a spread of steaming hot baked fish, wheat bread, October Ale and mint tea, and various vegetable sides and pastries. A few others also went into the Kitchens to help wash dishes.

As Jared touched down on the floor of Cavern Hole, he breathed an enormous sigh of relief and plopped onto a bench, helping himself to slices of cranberry cake, the aforementioned wheat bread, a side of coleslaw, and a cup of his favorite mint tea.

"Jared?"

He looked up from stuffing his face to see Madeline standing at the entrance to the Kitchens, the sleeves of her tunic rolled up to wash dishes, and now she dried her paws on a towel. She hurried over to her brother's side and fell into his arms.

"Jared! Thank goodness you're here! I was so afraid you wouldn't make it in time!"

Jared grunted in surprise as Madeline hugged her chest to his. He gently hugged her in return then urged her to sit beside him.

"Where have you been?" she strongly reprimanded him. "I was worried so sick about you!"

"I'm sorry, sis!" Jared apologized sincerely after swallowing his piece of cranberry cake. "I got held up at work – _Ah_!"

He cried out in pain as she smacked him hard upside the head.

"_Ow!_ Maddie, what the-?"

"You _idiot_!" Madeline growled at him again, gritting her teeth. "You got held up? By what, and whom?"

Jared painfully rubbed the back of his head and nibbled on his second slice of wheat bread. "Christopher Bronzespike came over, and I showed him how to make his ring. I planned to solder in the peridot afterwards, but…then he demanded that I go home."

At the mention of their hedgehog friend from St. Ninian's Church, Madeline's demeanor softened, and she relaxed in her seat on the bench. "Oh…well, I suppose that's reasonable." She cleared her throat and sipped a cup of October Ale. "That was very thoughtful of Chris to visit you. He's always been a dear kind hedgehog; don't you think so? You did the right thing. It's late, brother. Time for bed."

But Jared hesitated as he drained his mint tea. "Are you sure?"

Madeline reached out and massaged her brother's shoulders. "Jared, please come to bed. It's too late to resume your work. I don't want to spend tonight without you. Please."

He tensed up again. Madeline smiled and shook her head with a resigned sigh.

"Okay. I hate to do this to you, but it's my last resort."

She tilted her head to one side, her eyes wide and round, and her face a cute childlike smolder. Jared groaned and gulped at the irresistible expression, and his heart wrenched helplessly.

"Not the squirrelbabe eyes! You know I can't resist your adorable squirrelbabe eyes! Stop that!"

Madeline giggled and pressed her face to Jared's, nuzzling and stroking the fur on his face lovingly. "I know you can't stand my squirrelbabe eyes. That's exactly why I do it! You're coming to bed whether you like it or not, brother!"

Jared laughed heartily and cuddled his sister close to him. "Okay, babe. You win. I'll go to bed. Can you help me finish my food first?"

As Jared lay in bed, he wrapped one arm around Madeline and lay the other behind his head on the pillow. Maddie had placed one paw on his chest, and he stroked her ears lightly so as not to wake her. Much as he hated to give into her squirrelbabe eyes, in a sense she was still a child in his eyes. She lay there beside him in her undergarments, content and at peace, her warm paw dainty on his broad shirtless form, fur between her fingers; her innocence pure, angelic, and beautiful. His fingers traced down her bare back, his eyes painted a brother's deep fondness. How he wished she wasn't burdened by the pains of growing up.

Was she ready to handle it, he wondered? Would that she could be spared from such a confusion as puberty.

_No matter how much you grow up, you'll always be my little baby sister, Maddie. No matter what. _

He turned his head and stared out the window. The high moon shone its silvery-white rays, glowing on the bed frame and illuminating the four-square bedroom. As his eyelids closed, he turned around to Madeline and lay her head beside hers. But his mind wandered back to his forge, and the projects that sat unfinished in it. He cast his mind out into the darkness.

_Father…give me strength. _


	3. Daughter of the Sagewind

Once more, Madeline awoke to an empty bed. Her sisterly instinct revealed that her brother was most likely already at breakfast in Cavern Hole. She swung to her feet off the bed and walked over to the dresser to don a green skirt and a red-and-black polka-dotted blouse. She wasted no time hurrying to Cavern Hole after dressing.

Exactly as predicted. Jared sat at a table buttering a slice of toast. Madeline skipped down the stone stairs and made her way over to his side. At her approach, Jared turned around and gave her a glowing smile.

"Good morning, beautiful," Jared leaned over and kissed her cheeks. "Today's another day." He wrapped his spare arm around her waist and chuckled as she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He passed a chopping board of sliced bread to her. "Here, eat up. We've got another busy day ahead of us."

Madeline watched as Jared practically stuffed toast into his mouth and dug into a plate of steamed rice and scrambled eggs. "Brother, slow down! Since when are you in such a hurry?"

Jared grumbled through a mouthful of eggs and rice. He swallowed and answered, "Since I received the Bronzespike commission, and after Christopher showed up on my doorstep. I'm more determined than ever now to finish his gift! I've still got to make the steel sword for his father, too!"

"You still must slow down!" Madeline held him by the shoulders. "One bite at a time! What are you, a starved Salamandastron hare? The commission can wait! Please finish your food."

Jared grumbled a bit again but nodded. "Okay, fine. But I do need to get to the forge as soon as possible. The sooner I finish Christopher's ring, the sooner I can get started on Gaddron's sword. Why a hedgehog such as him would ever need a sword, and what he would use it for, is far beyond me."

Madeline giggled in amusement and shaking her head, helped herself to toast.

"So, Maddie, what's your plan today?" Jared asked, his spoon halfway to his mouth.

Madeline's face brightened, her eyes widened and she began articulating excitedly with the butter knife. "I plan to create a summer flower bouquet in the greenhouse! I've been at it for at least a month now! I feel like that side of the Abbey needs much more color. All the flowers are fully grown, or at least nearly. I'd love for you to see it sometime, Jared, if and when you're not too busy."

Jared simply sat back in his chair and laughed at his dorky little sister energetically elaborating on her work in the greenhouse. Such passion he'd never seen in her before. It caused him to grin in amusement from ear to ear. His heart was full of loving warmth. "That sounds like a beautiful project!" He reached up and rubbed his sister affectionately on her head between her velvety squirrely ears. "I'd love to see it when it's done!"

"I guess it's the closest I can get to your work." Madeline shrugged innocently, sighing at her brother's affectionately gentle stroking. "Don't forget, I'm an artist, too."

"Artistry runs in your family, doesn't it?" asked another brown squirrelmaid sitting across from her.

Madeline laughed at her fellow squirrelmaid. "Hello, Larina! How are you doing today?"

"Great, thank you, Madeline!" Larina greeted back, eating a scoop of oatmeal. She swallowed and asked, "I trust you and your brother are well?"

"We are both doing very well, thank you, Larina." Madeline smiled happily at Jared, whom, in between mouthfuls of toast, affectionately returned the gesture.

Larina leaned over the rectangular table and lightly stroked the back of Jared's other paw. "How are you doing, handsome? What are you up to today?"

Jared gulped down his bite of toast, blushing from Larina's soft friendly touch. He gave her a cordial smile and nod nonetheless. "I got a new commission yesterday. About time. Ring and sword for the Bronzespikes." He wiped his paws on a napkin and pushed his plate aside. "Now, I really must be going. The sooner I start, the sooner I can finish." He stood from his chair and leaned down to kiss Madeline, who gladly kissed him back. Before either squirrelmaid could blink, Jared was out of Cavern Hole.

Madeline shook her head and served herself bagels and cream cheese. "I swear, he is so impossible sometimes. He's been so consumed in his work lately. It's a miracle he even remembers to eat."

Larina shrugged cluelessly and mixed cinnamon into her oatmeal. "I've just as stumped as you are. I don't understand how your brother does that dangerous metalwork. You're doing something quite beautiful in the greenhouse. I'd love to see your final product. A rainbow made of summer flowers! I'm sure it'll be a wonder to behold!" She winked encouragingly at the younger Sandeye sibling. "Don't worry, Maddie. Jared will come around for his dearly beloved sister."

Madeline drummed her fingers on the table unconsciously. "Come around? For both our sakes, he'd darn well better."

Larina shook her head and went back to her oatmeal. "I must wholeheartedly disagree, Madeline. Even if he has a difficult time saying it, Jared loves you. More than you know."

* * *

After breakfast, Madeline climbed up to the Abbey walls, just in time to see Jared take off down the eastern road of Mossflower Forest. Once he had disappeared into the trees out of sight, she straightaway went to go open the greenhouse.

The sun glittered upon the summer grass and coated the floor in an almost arcane complexion, just as yesterday. Madeline felt right at home as always and prayed this sudden emergence of color would bring great fortune to herself and her plants. The watering can still sat where it had been left the day before.

Madeline sprinted to the Pond on the west end of the Abbey and filled the watering can to the brim. Then she carefully carried it back and perched it on a table, and turned over her shoulder to survey the gable conservatory.

It was a perfect horizontal rectangle of pure glass with two tilt-and-turn windows on either side. The glass door was tucked away behind Madeline in the south-facing corner. Freshly-laid grass spread across every square inch of the ground between the stone pavers floor. Three thin parallel alder wood tables occupied the main space, two on each side and one in the middle. Atop each table were boxes of many different kinds of summer flowers, impassively awaiting their watering by their diligent gardener. A five-foot ash-wood cabinet stood cozily in the left corner, holding various tools that Jared had personally forged himself for Redwall's use.

Madeline opened the tilt-and-turn windows to let in a smooth cool breeze, then fetched the watering can and got to work. She sprinkled three inches of water each onto infant periwinkles and blossoming blue hydrangeas on the left table, followed by two dozen pink and white roses in a seamless straight line in the middle, and concluded with a single box of yellow and orange marigolds on the right.

Her bushy tail opened the ash-wood cabinet. Inside, stacks of extra flowerpots sat on the floor flanked by burlap bags of summer flower seeds and mulch and a spare watering can on the left. A shorter shelf protruded higher up, upon which an iron box of trimming scissors rested. Plenty of soft-leather gloves hung from longer hooks lower on the sides of the cabinet. Madeline removed a pair of trimming scissors from the iron box and spun around gracefully to face the flowers.

"Good morning, everyone! I hope you're all having a wonderful summer morning. Are you ready for another fun workday?"

She put the scissors aside, picked up a sack of mulch, and began patrolling the greenhouse, placing small pawfuls of grass clippings, dead leaves, and twigs in every pot.

"Everyone looks so gorgeous today! The summer heat might be wilting a few of you, I noticed. So, I'm going to add some mulch to your pots, okay? That should keep you cool. Shall I trim your stems as well? Who would like a trim?"

In the rays of sunlight, she thought to perceive the marigolds had raised their petals an inch higher than usual as if drawing her attention.

"You'd like a trim? Sure! Not a problem!" She deadheaded the spent buds and excess branches from the stem of the marigolds, cutting each blossom at a 45-degree angle with the scissors.

"This time of the season again, isn't it? I know it's a bit awkward, this stage of the growing process, where things happen that you don't want to. I know what you're going through, believe me. It seems like a few months ago you were tiny seeds and sprouts, barely poking out of the soil. Most of you were barely taller than my pinky! It amazes me how fast you've grown up."

Exchanging the scissors for short shears, she clipped away the stems of the roses, the periwinkles, and the blue hydrangeas that had produced no healthy blossoms or flowers.

"Okay. you should have plenty of room now to produce your vibrant flowers now. Oh, you're very welcome!"

Her ears twitched at the sound of a key turning in the lock of the door. She brushed spare mulch and leaves off her apron and smoothed it out, wanting to look clean and proper for whoever was coming.

A petite middle-aged black-and-brown mousemaid stepped in through the door and removed her slippers. Madeline knew exactly who she was.

"Sister Fanistra!"

The mousemaid left her slippers at the door and grinned fondly at the squirrelmaid. "Madeline! How are ya, dear?" The two exchanged warm friendly hugs.

"Gotten right to work, I see," Sister Fanistra rubbed Madeline's head between her ears and gestured to the middle table. "Talkin' to th' flowers again, hmm?"

Madeline giggled and ran a bashful paw through her hair. "Why not? It helps them grow! Besides, you do it, too, Sister Fanistra."

Fanistra laughed heartily at the squirrelmaid's snark and playfully patted her on the back. "Oh, ye silly girl. Aye, ye're right. Talkin' pleasantly to th' flowers will indeed help 'em grow healthier. Is there anythin' I can help ye with?"

Madeline showed the scissors to the mousemaid. "I just finished deadheading and clipping their stems. What else can I do?"

Fanistra stroked her brown chin thoughtfully and stared at the roses. "I think it's time to fertilize those again. Let's do that quickly before we get around t' pottin' 'em sunflowers we looked at yesterday."

Madeline went straight back to the cabinet and returned the scissors to the box. Fanistra fetched a bag of compost fertilizer from underneath the middle table.

"So, yer brother has gone off to th' forge as usual, eh?" Fanistra asked, opening the bag.

"Yes, he did," Madeline scooped the fertilizer into the rose pots. "Right after breakfast. Didn't stop rushing for a second."

"That busy boy," Fanistra shook her head, sealing the bag and storing it back under the table. "He works himself so hard, an' takes more than he can handle."

"I tell him that sometimes, too," Madeline brushed the last of the fertilizer around the red roses. "Yet he never listens to me. I worry about him sometimes and his tendency to overwork himself."

"As I'm sure he likewise worries about ye, Maddie," Fanistra mused aloud as she removed a stack of five eight-inch flowerpots from the cabinet. "Both o' ye, workin' in hot places with almost no ventilation. Ye both try t' do as much work as ye can in such a short amount o' time."

"Are you saying that we're trying to do things beyond our abilities, Sister Fanistra?" Madeline stared at the mousemaid quizzically in a vague air of disbelief. She took the top two flowerpots from the stack and separated them on the right-side table.

"No, I'm not saying that at all." Fanistra shook her head defensively as she spread out the last three pots. "I simply believe that both of ye are so very alike to each other, how ye pursue yer careers wit' such depths of passion as I have never seen in this Abbey in many long seasons. Ye're certainly less snarky than he is, I'll give ye that."

Madeline grabbed a bag of sandy potting mix from underneath the table. "Is that a good thing? Our depths of passions, I mean," she asked, poking it open with her squirrel claws.

Fanistra placed a paw on her shoulder. "That's a question ye must ask yerself, my dear."

They started on potting the new flowers. The head gardener filled each flowerpot with three quarters of the mix and a tablespoon of lime. Her apprentice stood beside her, delicately holding a bouquet of mature sunflowers in each paw.

"Ever so delicately, darlin'," Fanistra watched pridefully as the squirrelmaid planted the sunflowers twelve inches deep into their pots and watered the top layer of their soil.

Fanistra laughed at Madeline turning around and wiping a sheen of sweat from her forehead and pointed to the new additions to their flower beds. "So, sunflowers require constant sunshine every single day, and should be fertilized with either compost or slow fertilizer."

"They require less watering as they mature, right?" Madeline added, captivated by the shimmering golden yellow beauty of the sunflowers.

"Aye, exactly!" Fanistra snapped her fingers and rubbed Madeline's head again. "Let us add the fertilizer now, then we'll take a snack break."

Fanistra sprinkled a special slow-acting granular fertilizer into the sunflowers' soil. Madeline watered them to begin the week-long dissolving process. These granules would release nutrients to improve the health of the soil and ensure the ripe growth of the newly-integrated sunflowers, adding to the ambiance of yellow already emanated by the marigolds. Then they left to take their snack break.

Madeline locked the greenhouse and scurried away to the Pond to clean the sweat off her face. Fanistra went down to Cavern Hole to collect snacks. They later sat cross-legged on the grass outside, munching on wheat raspberry jam sandwiches and mango scones, and drinking iced freshly-squeezed lemonade.

Fanistra turned to Madeline on her left. "Ye've become a righ' skilled gardener, Maddie. Pardon my forwardness. May I ask, did you ever have a mentor in yer home of th' Eastern Islands?"

Madeline swallowed her bite of scone to reply. "Yes, I did, Sister Fanistra. My mother, Amida Sandeye, was a florist by trade. She taught me everything I know about the art of botany. I owe everything to her. My mother grew flowers for every season in little terracotta pots in a greenhouse exactly like ours. She even assembled bouquets for our fellow Islanders for different occasions. On her birthday or their wedding anniversary, or as a simple gift, our father Dane also used to make bouquets out of the flower in her greenhouse, too. My mother Amida was an inspiration to me. So, when I reached eight years of age – it's the age at which Eastern children are given the privilege of choosing their trades – I was inspired to learn to do what my mother did. So, she took me under her wing as her pupil. Meanwhile, Jared and our eldest brother Edoran pursued our father Dane's trade as a blacksmith."

Fanistra chuckled and sipped her lemonade, smiling at Madeline fondly. "And it more than appears that she taught her pupil well. Ye made th' righ' choice."

Madeline's eyes glowed in the late morning sunlight, her face flushed. "Thank you, Sister Fanistra. That means a lot to me."

Fanistra popped her mango scone into her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. "Ye're very welcome. I would've loved to meet Amida Sandeye, to tell her that she an' her husband raised a wonderfully talented daughter an' two brave muscular sons. Ye're both such inspired creative artists, an' I stand ever in awe o' yer creations."

Madeline accepted the last mango scone. "I believe botany is an art of its own. It may be different from blacksmithing. But it's an art of elaborate color. I'll do my very best to be worthy of its creative possibilities."

"I have th' utmost faith in yer imagination, darlin'," Fanistra patted Madeline's head and ate the last mango scone. "Even if ye don't know it yet, a world o' imagination awaits ye. Hydrangeas, marigolds, roses, periwinkles, and sunflowers paint a rainbow that shines gloriously upon Redwall Abbey."

* * *

The first thing Madeline saw inside the forge was a burst of flames. The second, the sight of Jared exclaiming and stumbling around clumsily, patting hard at his waist. Then he was scrambling frantically out of the forge. The hem of his blacksmith's apron was on fire.

Jared pulled his burning apron off his body and tossed it flat onto a patch of dirt. Then he knelt and desperately patted out the flames with his thick gloves.

"Jared!" Madeline sprinted over and slid onto her knees to help quiet the violent flames, to no avail. She got back on her feet and collected dirt into the toes of her shoes. "Hold on! Cover your eyes!"

"Maddie-!" Jared instinctively turned away and hid his eyes as she kicked a thick wave of dirt onto the blazing cloth. The thick coat instantly snuffed out the fire.

Both squirrels coughed and waved the dust away. Jared opened his eyes and turned to Madeline, who was panting in shock and holding a meager string of the apron.

"Are you okay?" she asked him breathlessly.

Jared caught his scattered breath first and gratefully squeezed Madeline's shoulders. "Yeah, I'm all right. Thank you. You came just in time."

"That was scary, wasn't it?" Madeline laughed awkwardly, dropping the apron string. "What on earth happened, Jared?"

"Well," Jared rubbed the back of his head bashfully. "I finished Christopher Bronzespike's ring. I soldered the peridot into the silver. Then I got started on forging Gaddron Bronzespike's sword. I heated the metal ingot in the furnace and started hammering it. I've got the basic shape drawn out; just needs annealing now. But when I went back the fourth time to the furnace…I guess I wasn't paying attention. A corner of my apron got caught in the flames, and then before I knew it, the entire hem was burning!" His ears drooped an inch, and he shrugged apologetically. "It's my fault I freaked out. Gosh, I'm clumsy."

Madeline didn't hold back her giggles and took the chance to tease. "If I hadn't gotten here in time, you'd be without a smock, now wouldn't you?"

Jared pretended to glare at her incredulously. "Are you laughing at me?" He shook his head and gingerly pulled his poor coveralls out of the dirt, coated with light tan dirt and speckled with burnt leather. "This was my favorite…and it's the only one I have that fits me."

Madeline patted his back sympathetically and sighed. "I'm sorry, Jared. I'm sure Almoner Mack can make you another one; the same color and size and everything?"

Jared hummed confidently and shook his head again. "No, it's fine. I'm half a mile southeast from the River. I'll just wash it there." He turned to her. "What are you doing here?"

"Came looking for you, of course, like I always do." Madeline kissed Jared's temples. "Lunchtime is in a half-hour."

Jared stood and slung his ruined article over his shoulder. "Nah, let's go to the River first. I'll wash my apron, then we'll go back to the Abbey. Come on, my treat." He held out his paw for his sister to take.

At the large River Moss, Jared sat on the tributary banks and begrudgingly washed his tainted apron, wincing at the noticeably mild burns on it. "Hmm. The damage doesn't look too bad." He observed, holding it at his eye level. "I guess I can keep wearing it. Or it might be better to ask Mack to make me a new one." He folded it over his arms and got to his feet. "So, how was the greenhouse today?"

Madeline joined him on her feet and shook cold water from her paws and arms. "Oh, it was fun! Me and Sister Fanistra potted sunflowers today!"

"Sunflowers!" Jared marveled wistfully as they set back on the road. "Those were Mom's favorite summer flowers, weren't they?"

Madeline nodded and held Jared's paw in hers. "Yes, they were. I think she would've loved them. She adored sunflowers! She grew those more than any other flower at Maraul. There was one sitting on every windowsill of home, remember? Never ceased to brighten the mood around the house on hard days!"

Jared affectionately squeezed her tender paw. He looked off into the distance nostalgically. "_Sagewind_…I remember that's what Dad used to call her."

"Oh, yes!" Madeline playfully swung their arms up and down in the air. "_Sagewind_, the daughter of nature. Such a beautiful nickname. It fit Mom so well!"

Jared laughed at her silliness and linked their arms together as they left the River Moss. At the forge, Jared packed away his tools and locked up. They sat down on the tree stump wearily.

Madeline laid her head comfortably on Jared's shoulder, resting her paws in her lap. "Jared…What do you think Mom would've thought of me, if she could see me now, working in Redwall Abbey's greenhouse?"

Jared placed a paw on Madeline's arm sympathetically. He chose his words very mindfully, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and gently laying his other paw on her stomach.

"Do you want to know what I think, Madeline?" Jared smiled and squeezed her close to him, touching their foreheads together. "I think Mom would've been very proud of you." He affectionately rubbed her stomach and her shoulders. "I know I am."

Madeline sighed and stared pensively at her sandals. "I just want to know that my work is making a difference, that's it. Don't you think that?"

Jared ran his paws along her arms and stomach. "You are making a difference, Madeline. You truly are. We both are. Even if we don't see it directly, we are making a difference. It may not be touching the world. But in the lives of those we help and work with, their worlds are being touched, large and small. Hey, look at me."

He held Madeline's face in his paws, stared passionately into her chestnut-brown eyes like his own, and rubbed her face fur between his fingers.

"Mom chose you to be her novice botanist not out of nepotism or family-centric selfishness, as everyone else at Maraul thought. She chose you because she saw your potential. It's the same reason Dad chose me and Edoran to be his blacksmiths. He saw the fire in our eyes, just as Mom saw your spiritual connection to nature in your heart. If you ask me, she made the right choice."

Madeline held her paws on Jared's and sighed with gratitude. "You think so? If we could only ask them the truth now...I want to say that Dad made the best choice with you and Edoran, too, because I sincerely believe that."

Jared lowered his paws and laid them in his lap, suddenly clueless. "I do pray you're right. I could seriously use their help right now." He brightened up and offered his arm to his sibling. "Shall we go to lunch, my little sunflower?"

Madeline gladly took Jared's arm and couldn't stop blushing red and pink all the way home to Redwall Abbey.

"When the moment is right," Madeline promised as they restarted on the road, leaving the smithy behind. "I will show you the masterpiece. Fanistra and I take great pride in it."

"As you should, as master and apprentice." Jared agreed, hitherto visualizing the mysterious artwork that awaited him like a gift. "It's your artwork."

"From time to time, it feels like Mom's spirit is there," Madeline confessed, reaching the threshold of the Abbey's Front Gate. "Helping me, giving me advice, showing me where to plant the flowers, prompting me where to place the pots." She looked at Jared curiously and followed him onto the lawn. "Do you sense that? Does it on any occasion seem like that Edoran and Dad are there in the forge?"

"You know, now that you mention it," Jared scratched his chin thoughtfully, thinking back to his workplace. "It does it seem like that, quite a lot. Every time I start a new project, I think of Edoran and Dad. I like to feel they are there working alongside me, showing me every step of the processes of forging and soldering and hammering, whether it be for a necklace or a ring or a sword. I can indeed sense their presence oftentimes. I wonder what they would be thinking or feeling about my efforts."

Madeline planted adoring kisses on her brother's cheeks. "Well, I reckon they'd be equally thrilled about you as well, Jared. Perhaps they alone know why Gaddron Bronzespike wants a sword. Perhaps Mom knows what's the best arrangement for my flowers this season. We alone must take the first steps on the journey towards the truth."

These curious words of wisdom lingered in the squirrels' minds when they crossed through the Abbey and descended into Cavern Hole.

* * *

As they sat at lunch, Jared looked over his sketches for the steel sword for Gaddron Bronzespike, chewing contemplatively on apricot jam toast; Madeline mixed honey and cinnamon into her oatmeal and chatted with her fellow Redwallers.

"Bethany, I promise I'm fine," she assured a short pink-tan hedgemaid barely two seasons younger than herself. "I've just reached my adolescence and now I'm physically changing. It is uncomfortable, but nothing I can't handle. You don't need to worry about me right now."

"Are…are you sure?" Bethany tilted her head to one side, her eyes concerned. "I'm still not there yet. I'm not twelve seasons old yet!"

"I am sure, Beth," Madeline patted Bethany's shoulder. "I've got my brother to help me through it." She smiled over at Jared scrutinizing his blueprint for the sword.

"Why in this gorgeous gentle green earth does Gaddron Bronzespike want a sword for?" Jared asked himself skeptically. "Why such an ignorant unappreciative moron as him would ever be allowed to use a sword is so beyond me."

"Maybe for ceremonial purposes?" suggested Gavlin, a gray-black Mossflower shrew from the Guosim, passing out buttermilk pancakes to his tablemates. "Th' Bronzespikes do live in th' Church, don't they?"

"That makes an odd amount of sense, Gavlin," Jared agreed, accepting the pancake and laying it on his plate. "Yet, I wish he had made his meaning plainer when he'd requested it. I don't forge swords for just anybeast. I have to know why they want it in advance. Either Gaddron is clueless and ignorant, or he just has no sense of reasoning."

"Eh, I can't argue against that logic," Gavlin shrugged nonchalantly and drank his dandelion juice. "Although bein' clueless an' ignorant an' havin' no sense o' reasonin' are pretty much th' same thin'. Maybe if you're lucky, Jared, he might come t' see your progress. Only you can get that daft dolt t' fess up."

"If he wants it for anything other than a formal purpose," Jared shook his head disapprovingly and spread maple syrup over his pancake before eating it. "I won't forge it for him. I would never give a sword to arm an incompetent and uneducated creature with no aptitude to become a warrior."

"For a bloke who lives in a church," Gavlin chuckled and shook his head in skepticism. "He's got a terrible sense o' conscience. At least Valia and Christopher have a better-established sense o' moral character, eh?"

"I agree," Jared swallowed his bite of pancake and washed it down with pumpkin juice. "Christopher will love the finished ring when I give it to him."

Bethany tapped Madeline's shoulder. "Are you going back to the greenhouse? I'd love to see what you're growing! Do you and Sister Fanistra have anything special planned?"

"Not at the moment, no," Madeline explained and finished her oatmeal, and encouraged the hedgemaid with a wink. "The flowers are mostly mature. But Sister Fanistra and I have nothing special planned yet. I'm sure we'll invent something eventually using our lovely flowers."

Both girls watched the entertainment of the boys at their table fervently discussing the steel sword. Much as Jared and Gavlin tried, they failed to reach any logical conclusion, to their amusement. Eventually, Gavlin relented on trying to answer the irritating riddle, and Jared concluded it was best to continue the project despite the frustrating lack of concrete details.

"Such is the struggle of artists," Jared laughed and scratched his befuddled head. "We make do using what we have. I reckon it's not the finished product that is the creation, but the effort and time poured into making it."

"No better words said, mate!" Gavlin stood up off his bench to take his plates to the Kitchens. Jared kissed his sister on her cheeks and tailed after the shrew.

As Madeline returned to her botanical garden, she sat in the solitary chair, silently pondering her florets, unable to shake the persistent thought from her mind, a single prayer in her heart.

"Mother," she whispered to the empty noiseless air. "Be my gardening muse."

Fanistra entered inside after her, and both donned their aprons.

"Sister," Madeline wondered aloud to the mousemaid. "Do you ever think that my mother is aware of the gardening I'm doing here at Redwall Abbey?"

Fanistra held Madeline's paws earnestly in hers. "Madeline, my darlin' girl, I'm certain she already knows."


	4. Summer Heat Friction

Late afternoon turned into evening with little event in the interim. Jared never showed up for dinner. Madeline despondently went down to Cavern Hole alone. She sat at the same table that they had earlier used for lunch, and helped herself to a hot vegetable stew and a goblet of Raspberry Cordial. She asked the beasts sitting around her of the whereabouts of her brother while she ate and drank.

"He was here about half an hour ago," explained Larina as she placed a slice of freshly-baked wheat bread on top of Madeline's stew bowl. "But he just filled up a bag of sandwiches and immediately left, muttering something about needing to finish the Bronzespike commission. I can't think of anywhere else he's gone."

"What?!" Madeline jumped to her feet and nearly knocked over her goblet. "He went straight to the forge without letting me know? Why? Is he swamped with commissions, or is he just crazy? Why is he taking on more than he can handle? What in the name of Redwall is he doing? I'm going to give him a piece of my mind, and then drag him all the way here to dinner! That'll show him!" She quickly scarfed down her stew and Cordial, shoved her bread into her mouth, and stomped out of Cavern Hole.

Nobeast bothered to try and stop her.

The moon was midway up the horizon when she arrived at the forge. The heaving crunching sound of pumping bellows exhaled from the smithy's sole east-facing window. Sparks and smoke bounced and billowed from the chimney, and the weather vane rattled slightly under the pressure. Madeline stormed up to the stable door and knocked on it furiously.

The top of the door flew open, and Jared stood there, wearing his burned blacksmith's apron and covered shoulders to waist in soot.

"Madeline?" he asked, genuinely surprised to see his sister on the doorstep of his forge at this time of night. "What are you doing out here?"

Madeline glared sharp daggers at her brother, her disapproving paws on her hips. "What do you think I'm doing out here, you metalhead? I'm asking why you're skipping dinner and working in your forge at this early evening hour!"

Jared glanced briefly over his shoulder at his anvil, upon which his hammer lay unused, and the closed furnace bursting with flickering jumping flames. "Er…I'm swamped with work right now, Maddie." He looked back at his sister, remaining firmly resolute under her stern gaze, or at least the sternest gaze a young teenager like her could manage. "I just realized that today is Friday. The Bronzespike commission is due tomorrow. I have to finish up Christopher's ring and grind Gaddron's sword after it finishes annealing. I can't afford to leave them until they're overdue. Does that answer your question, Maddie?"

"No, it absolutely does not, Jared!" Madeline growled and jabbed her finger into his broad chest as he leaned casually on the stable door. "It doesn't excuse you skipping dinner for the fifth time this month! It doesn't exempt you from spending time with your younger sister, and even your friends, which, by the way, is what you really ought to be doing! Seriously? A sword _and _a ring?" She folded her arms and deepened her scowl at her brother.

But Jared did not budge and only bit his lip stubbornly. He pushed the bottom half of the stable door and stepped out onto the threshold to confront Madeline, both of them bathed in the pearly-white moonlight.

"Madeline, listen to me," Jared demanded, hanging his arms by his side but staring uncharacteristically stony-faced at Madeline. "I suddenly remembered earlier that there is still a lot of work to be done before the end of the week. I've already left Gaddron's sword to anneal. That gives me the rest of the night to finish Christopher's ring. Tomorrow morning, at the earliest, I'll have time to grind and decorate the sword before I deliver it alongside the ring. I don't know how long it will take, but it's worth sacrificing dinner over if it means getting the job done. You go without me, Maddie. I'll eat whatever is left."

"You left straight for the forge without letting me know first?" Madeline threw her paws in the air in angry disbelief. Jared flinched where he stood, and a fleeting look of scared surprise painted itself on his face. "Don't be so impulsive, Jared! I swear, you sound like Dad, and you're acting like Edoran, too! I won't stand for this! You're coming home to eat dinner whether you like it or not!"

"Oh, I sound like Dad, huh?" Jared countered, pointing himself as if deflecting guilt. "I'm acting like Edoran, too? All of a sudden, I'm the villain here now, aren't I? Well, in case you haven't noticed, Maddie, I'm not Dad or Edoran, all right? I'm just me! So guess what? You're sounding exactly like Mom, too! _'You're coming home to eat dinner whether you like it or not!'_" He waved his hands elaborately in the air in a stale mimicry of his sister. "Honestly, that's the most dramatic thing I've ever heard you say!"

"Yes, I'm sounding exactly like Mom!" Now Madeline was shouting and pushing herself in her brother's face in unadulterated anger. "But keep on taking more commissions than you're able to physically handle, and skipping meals without pretense, and I'll become her!"

"Watch your tone, young lady," Jared scathed in a low voice through gritted teeth as he stared down at the shorter squirrelmaid. "You're treading on thin soil."

"I'm not the one who plays with fire," Madeline seethed back at her taller brother. She suddenly seized the knots of Jared's apron around his waist and began to undo them. "I'll drag you to dinner at Redwall Abbey even if I have to trap you in a net!"

But Jared slipped smoothly out of his apron and retreated inside his forge. He closed the low half of the stable door and sheltered himself behind it. "Go ahead. Take it. I don't need it anymore. I'll ask Almoner Mack to make me another one and you can keep that to wear in the greenhouse. I don't care. If you'll excuse me, Madeline, I have to get back to work. Go and eat your dinner." He turned his back on her and began opening drawers.

Madeline tossed the burned apron onto the dirt, her growling becoming quite uncharacteristically irate for a 14-season old squirrelmaid. She stomped up to the door and screamed at the male squirrel's darkened silhouette at the top of her lungs:

"_Tinarandel!"_

Jared suddenly froze in place. The hammer fell from his paw and hit the ground with a noisy clatter. Jared pivoted his torso to face Madeline. All the color had drained from his shocked face.

"Did you just call me…" he asked in a breathless tentative whisper. "'Tinarandel'?"

"I did indeed call you Tinarandel!" Madeline screamed through the door. She shoved the bottom half of the door aside and stepped into the forge to face her brother. "And I'll continue to call you by your Eastern name until you decide to come to dinner! I don't care that it's the name you're uncomfortable with, or if you often question the reasons why it was given to you. You know full well that it's your true name in our homeland." She stepped straight up to the anvil and planted her palms flat on its surface. "With that said, you need to come to dinner now!"

Jared bent down briefly, picked up his hammer, and laid it crosswise on the anvil. For a lengthy solid minute, he leaned on the anvil horn and caught his rattled breath, inhaling and exhaling as meditatively as possible to calm his stricken nerves. There was no sound but the cheerful roaring of the wild fire in the coal furnace. But neither squirrel heeded it.

Finally, Jared jabbed a prompting finger into his sister's budding chest. "Go home, Isidith," he called her by her Eastern name.

"I shall not go home!" Madeline instinctively grabbed Jared's paw and redirected it away from her chest. She put her paws on Jared's on the anvil, lacing her fingers in his and staring into his eyes pleadingly. "Not without you, Tinarandel!"

"I have to finish this!" Jared gestured at his anvil defiantly. "I'm running out of time! Besides, I already ate my sandwiches on the way here. So, I'm not hungry anyway. You should return to Redwall now, Isidith." He concluded with a tone of finality. "There's nothing you can do to convince me to leave my forge." He opened up his toolbox and removed a metal file and a ring mandrel.

But Madeline seized the nape of Jared's shirt and yanked him to her side. Jared wriggled wildly and slipped right out of his shirt with almost no effort. Madeline was left standing on the other side of the anvil holding an empty tan cloth V-neck shirt by the back collar, silent and dumbfounded as her bare-chested sibling continued to go about his blacksmithing business unperturbed.

The toned Jared spun on his heels to face Madeline, holding his hammer in his left paw and the ring mandrel in his right. "Isidith," he ordered as authoritatively as possible. "This is the last time I'll tell you. Go home."

Madeline groaned in resignation and threw the shirt at Jared, who caught it reflexively without a blink. "_Fine!_" she cried and turned to exit the forge. "Stay with your metal and your tools and your anvil and your fire for all I care! Work yourself to the bone if you want to! Just don't starve!" She disappeared into the trees before Jared said a word back to her.

Madeline returned to Redwall Abbey in a cold fury. Yet she forcibly restrained herself from lashing out and arrived back in Cavern Hole. She offered her seat to a little squirrelmaid Dibbun and stood beside the table.

Larina sitting across from the Dibbun frowned sympathetically and passed Madeline a raspberry Danish. "You couldn't get him to budge, huh?"

Madeline shook her head silently and glared downward at her sandals, leaning against the red sandstone wall and sighing stressfully as she held the Danish nonchalantly in her paws.

Larina resisted the urge to laugh and gave a second Danish to the squirrelmaid Dibbun. "Here you go, Dorothy. Well, I don't think he was ever going to move anyway, Maddie," she continued to Madeline. "He's so stubborn sometimes, I understand that. He's a tough mind to read. Not even you, his sister, got him to leave his forge! Why, you'd probably have better luck trying to teach the alphabet to a newborn squirrelmaid."

"Like me!" The Dibbun named Dorothy chimed in, her mouth half-full of Danish. "But I'm nota newborn! I'ma four sezuns ol' now!"

Madeline shook her head in adamant disagreement. "I can't help but feel that his blacksmithing is getting the better of him. I doubt he'll ever come around now." She took a bite out of her raspberry Danish and relished its sweet fruity taste, chewing thoughtfully. "He's so enveloped in it that it's all he does anymore. He takes on more work than he's capable of handling that I worry he'll overwork and exhaust himself, and neglect everything else in his life for the sake of obsessive improvement. Now that I think about it, he's becoming like our father, and even our older brother a little bit, too. That's what I'm afraid of."

"Maddie?" Dorothy asked shyly and turned in her seat to look at Madeline, tilting her curious head to one side. "D'ya thin' yar bwuther Jared loves ya?"

Madeline gave the squirrelbabe a small sad smile and licked raspberry from the sides of her lips. "My brother Jared is many things. Selfish is not one of them."

* * *

Back in the forge, Jared carried the unfinished Gaddron Bronzespike used into the fiery furnace. The orange-yellow flames licked the silvery steel and glimmered brightly upon the prototype blade. Jared watched and waited as the sword heated up, wiping sweat form his brow and nape. His mind had traveled elsewhere.

_You idiot, Gaddron!_ he thought in disappointment to himself. There was a surprising mild bitterness to his inner voice that caught him off-guard for a few fleeting seconds. _Do you even know how long it takes to forge a sword? I doubt you'd be able to do it yourself, especially since I've never seen you do so much as pick up a hammer!_

He slipped his shirt back on and fetched his ruined apron from outside. Then he pulled the sword out of the furnace and laid it across the anvil. Holding his trusty hammer in his left paw and the skeletal hilt in his right, he began painstakingly pounding hard at the steel blade to lengthen it by a few inches. While it burned again, he grabbed a shroud of mineral wool from his drawers and spread it across one of the counters.

He repeated his hammering twice more before heating for the last time, and finally wrapped the sword in the mineral wool shroud to anneal it overnight.

Turning away from the covering, his eyes fell for a moment on one-fourth of a sandwich that sat on the other counter: white bread encasing slices of soft cheddar cheese freshly made at the Abbey. This, alongside a peanut butter-and-jelly and several other cheese sandwiches, were the only dinner he'd had all night.

He suddenly began to see why Madeline had been sorely disappointed. But he quickly brushed it off as an immature teenage fling, as he shoved the last one-fourth of the cheddar cheese sandwich into his mouth.

_I'm becoming like Dad and Edoran, am I? _he thought, less scornfully this time but not devoid of slight skepticism. _We'll see about that, Maddie. I told you, I'm just me; and there's nobeast else I'd rather be._

Now it was time at last to put the finish touches on Christopher's birthday ring. Jared sat comfortably on a small three-legged stool at the anvil. He slipped the silver peridot ring carefully onto the mandrel, and spent the next fifteen minutes lightly pounding it into a perfectly round shape, scraping off the excess silver using a half-round file, and then cleaning the band with sandpaper. For the final touch, he applied a thin shiny polish coat of Anvilwort Root Oil, a exclusive plant-based waxing liquid made in and imported from the Eastern Islands. At last, the silver peridot ring was finished.

Jared checked it on his index finger. It hung there like an unneeded weight, far too big for his squirrel fingers. But it would be an undeniably perfect fit on Christopher's hedgehog paws. Jared let a wave of humble accomplishment wash over him at the completion of yet another successful piece of Eastern-made jewelry.

As Jared placed the ring inside a birch octagonal jewelry box and sealed it, his ears twitched at the sound of a second knock at the stable door. It was looser, lighter, friendlier, and less moody than his sister's had been earlier. He put the box aside next to the annealing sword and answered the door.

Gavlin the Guosim shrew stood on the grassy threshold behind the stable door, smiling with bright confidence.

To his surprise, Jared found himself grinning from ear to ear. He opened the lower half of the stable door to meet the shrew. "Hey, Gavlin! Good to see you!"

Gavlin matched his wide smile and clapped Jared heartily on the back. "Hey, Jared, me mate! I came t' pass th' word alon' that it's time for th' Guosim t' head up th' River Moss fer th' rest o' th' rest o' th' summa. I can't stay lon' as I've gotta meet up wit' 'em before sunset. So, I came t' pick up Log-a-Log Tipuka's dagger, eh?"

For a short minute, Jared stared at Gavlin, befuddled. Then his eyes widened in realization, and he snapped his fingers, suddenly remembering. "Oh, yeah!" He stepped over the threshold and back into the doorway of the forge. "I remember now! Come on in, Gavlin." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, I've just been so caught up with working on the Bronzespike order that I've lost track of everything else."

Gavlin snickered and waved his paw dismissively. "Ah, don't worry 'bout it, brotha. Whether ye know it or not, ye've been doin' great blacksmithin' work. I understan' ye've gotta lot on yer min'. I won't stick me little shrew nose in where it doesn't belon'. D'ye have th' dagger?"

Jared nodded and opened one of the forge drawers and withdrew a thick rectangular silver box. He slipped a claw into the lock and gently opened the lid. There inside a soft leather sheath lying on a coat of thick blue velvet was a simple nine-inch stainless steel quillon dagger. Jared held the box flat in his palms and formally presented it to Gavlin.

Gavlin thankfully took the box from Jared and smiled admiringly at the dagger reclined on the blue velvet for a moment. "Aye, this is it! Leather aroun' th' metal 'ilt, rounded pommel, nine-inch straight edge blade sharpened t' lethal point, an' not a single nick in sigh'. Pure Sandeye work, this is!" He nodded his approval at Jared. "I see why Redwall speaks so highly o' ye an yer work. I'm sure Tipuka will love it, Jared. It's precisely what he wanted. I'm sorry he ain't here t' pick it up himself; but he has t' organize th' trip. Ye know th' deal, Jared, I thin' ye're underestimatin' yerself as a blacksmith. Ye are capable o' so many great things, an yet ye've so little confidence in yer abilities. Why is that?"

Jared shrugged honestly and leaned on the cold anvil, folding his arms thoughtfully. "I don't really know, to be truthful with you, Gav. I've found I do my best work for those who will truly appreciate it, who have open eyes and a discerning mind for real art. It's the best quality for the best beasts who see the potential for masterpieces of metal. Log-a-Log Tipuka is the leader of the Guosim, a beast in a position of high authority to be respected and esteemed. Not unlike our Father Abbot of Redwall. So, I had to forge his dagger of nothing less than prime quality, absolutely flawlessly down to the most minute detail. Although while I know I can do anything I put my mind to, the reason why I underestimate myself is…because…" He met Gavlin's eyes with sincere insecurity. "I wonder if I'm doing enough."

Gavlin carefully sealed the dagger box and tucked it securely under one arm, placing his other assuring paw on Jared's shoulder. "Jared, listen t' me, mate. Ye are doin' enough, more than great work, an' this dagger is proof o' that. I agree that ye're able t' do whateva ye put yer creative metal-makin t' do. Log-a-Log Tipuka admires yer smithing abilities, an' so do I. So does Redwall Abbey an' all o' Mossflower. This here dagger, attentively crafted an' forged t' perfection, is a testament t' yer capabilities, a profession that ye give nothin' less than th' best t' those who respect this artful craft. Ye have incredible skill an' talent unmatched by any other in Mossflower, Jared. I know ye may not believe that now; but I'm sayin' it 'cause it's true. Gaddron Bronzespike may not care about all the exhaustin' hours an' tireless days that ye spen' making' some bloody sword. Forget that brickheaded muddler! Tell that spikebrain t' buzz off, eh? Art is meant t' be subjective! Some will appreciate it an' some won't. Ye're a thumpin' good blacksmith, Jared, aye! From now on, I suggest ye oughta just give yer masterpieces o' metal t' those who'll truly respect them. On behalf o' the Guerilla Union Shrews o' Mossflower I thankee!"

Jared laughed genuinely into his chest, deeply inspired by Gavlin's selfless words. He pushed off the anvil and patted Gavlin's paw on his shoulder gratefully. "Thank you, Gavlin. I…don't know how to thank you for your kind words and insight. I truly wasn't expecting a discourse like this from you, of all creatures." He put a proud paw on the dagger box and the other on the shrew's shoulder. "But seriously, Gav, thank you. I sincerely hope Tipuka plans to put his new weapon to good use. He's always had a good eye for those sorts of things. I guess that's part of the job description of a Log-a-Log."

Jared laughed nervously and clasped Gavlin's paw in his own. "Stay safe out there, okay? Please give Tipuka my regards."

Gavlin saluted Jared with his other paw on his brow. "As his trusty nephew, I'll definitely give Tipuka yer regards, rest assured." He tucked the dagger box securely under his arm and grinned cheerfully at the blacksmith squirrel two seasons younger than him. "I s'pose I owe ye a favor now, don't I?"

Jared placed a sympathetic paw on the Guosim shrew's shoulder. "You can do me the favor of ensuring that that dagger reaches Log-a-Log Tipuka's paws safely, and _only _his paws. I don't trust anybeast else but you or him to wield it properly with great care and moral restraint. Think you can do that for me, Gav?"

Gavlin gave him a confident smile. "Tell ye what, Jared: I'll do ye two favors. I'll get Tipuka's dagger t' him an' do my best t' keep meself an' th' Guosim safe while we're travelin' upriva. How about that, eh? Two favors fer th' price o' one."

Jared nodded in agreement, but struggled slightly to match the shrew's smile. "That sounds great, Gavlin. I'd most grateful if you ensure that Tipuka's dagger reaches his paws, and _only _his paws. I don't trust anybeast else besides you to wield it with care and restraint."

Gavlin squeezed Jared's fingers reassuringly and stepped out of the forge onto the dirt. "Ye can count on me t' do that, mate. Fer sure, by th' very trees o' Mossflower, I swear!" He clicked his heels and saluted Jared military-style. The squirrel formally copied the gesture.

Gavlin shuffled his sandals and pivoted on his heels. "Well, I'd best be off t' meet me brethren! I'll not rest until this dagger crosses Log-a-Log Tipuka's palms! Farewell an' good night, Jared Sandeye!"

"Goodnight, Gavlin!" Jared called after the departing shrew, who gave one last wave over his shoulder and disappeared into the trees of the dense forest in the direction of the River Moss.

* * *

After Gavlin left, Jared cleaned up his forge as normal. He left the ring and sword in their places untouched on the left-side counter. The burned apron hung on a short hook beside the stable door. On his way back to Redwall Abbey, he carried the three-legged stool and his empty burlap food sack for his sandwiches. He replaced the stool in its original spot in the Library and the burlap sack in the Kitchens. Then he took a quick bath in the Abbey Pond and prepared for bed.

The first thing he saw when he came to his dormitory was a still fully-dressed Madeline standing in the middle of the room, her arms crossed in discontent.

"You're late," she didn't hesitate to point out to her brother. "Very late."

Jared entered the bedroom, and sensing the fragile tension between the two of them, quietly closed the door. He immediately began stripping down to his undergarments. "Ring's done," he informed Madeline, somewhat dismissively but bearing a hint of empathetic excitement, as if trying to reach out to her. "All I have to do now is the sword. I'm annealing it overnight so I can grind and finish it in the morning. Then I'll deliver it on time just after breakfast. I'm looking forward to that."

Madeline shook her head and sighed in dismay. She turned and walked over to her side of the bed they shared, and likewise undressed. "I'm still angry at you for missing dinner and not spending time with me and everyone else. You've never done that before. In the one season since you stated blacksmithing, you've never skipped a single mealtime. Not one, even when it seemed so easy to do so! I can't believe you'd do it tonight, of all nights."

She slipped off her red and black polka-dotted blouse, draped it over a chair, and climbed into bed. Her discontent had faded mildly as she pulled the blanket up to her chest and stared softly at Jared, although a vague shade of it dwelt just behind the whites of her concerned cocoa-brown eyes. "What were you thinking, Jared?"

"I'm thinking that my time is against me," Jared explained without a second's hesitation, and left his shoes by the bedroom door. "Or perhaps time was never mine to begin with," he mused aloud to himself. He folded up his shirt and trousers and left them on the seat of the chair. Standing shirtless, barefoot, and only in his underwear, he pulled a genuine smirk at Madeline and pointed at his clothes playfully. "You can at least count on me to do my laundry tomorrow, as soon as I come back from St. Ninian's," he half-joked.

Madeline rolled her eyes, but Jared detected the hint of a true smile on her pretty young face when she lay down. "Come lie beside me, Jared. Please go to sleep."

Jared joined Madeline on the other side of the bed. They slept that night with their backs turned to each other.

"Just so you know, Jared. I'll say it again: I'm still angry at you."

"Love you, too, Maddie."

Jared instantly shut up when Madeline whacked him in the head with a spare pillow.


	5. Family

Saturday morning arrived the same as the mornings before it, absent of preamble. Despite having gone to bed at nearly midnight, Jared woke up exactly at dawn and snuck out of his bedroom and the Abbey before another soul could follow suit.

When he returned to his forge, he found the steel sword perfectly annealed. He removed it from the mineral wool cloth and took it outside to the grindstone.

He sat down on the rather uncomfortable semicircular wooden seat and placed his right foot on the pedal to spin the grindstone, upon which he laid the blade of the sword horizontal to carefully work out the point and edges. The sparks from the stone leaped around playfully and landed in a small metal pail hanging from a curved hook at the top of a thin steel pole. Periodically, Jared stopped to wipe sweat that grew on his brow and nape, and every so often it dripped onto the grindstone or sword and even accumulated in a silvery sheen in the metal pail. A half-hour later, Jared had fully honed and sharpened the steel sword to a point. Jared painfully stood up from the grindstone, rubbing his rear end as he awkwardly shuffled back into the forge on shaky legs.

He spent the next hour pumping a new fire inside the furnace and arduously heating, quenching, and tempering the half-finished sword. After a small bit of last-minute grinding, he meticulously affixed a rounded pommel stone onto the handle and polished the quillon hilt with Anvilwort Root Oil.

At long last, Jared proudly held a completed Eastern steel sword in his paws.

As the dawn passed into the fringes of morning, Jared slipped the finished sword inside an oak wood scabbard lined with mineral wool and hung it on a specialized sword made of soft leather. He placed Christopher's silver peridot ring box inside an oilcloth sack and tied it by the laces to the belt. The belt itself came from a similar commission from the past spring that ended up not being needed by its patron. Being an exquisite piece of work that Jared could not bear to throw away, he was beyond glad to see it finally put to noble use.

Tying the belt around his waist, Jared slipped on his traveling shoes and hurried back to Redwall Abbey. He joined his fellow Redwallers in Cavern Hole for breakfast, filling his plate with freshly-baked toast with raspberry jam, scrambled eggs and rice, and buttermilk pancakes. Without even checking to see if his sister was present, he practically scarfed down his breakfast and left the modest red sandstone Abbey for the fantastical green of Mossflower Woods.

Jared shuffled his shoes and began his hour-long trek to St. Ninian's Church. The morning sun beamed on him from the clear blue sky and brightened the emerald forest around him. A mile and a half down the main road, however, he began to joke to himself.

"This walking is boring! What the heck am I doing? I'm a squirrel! I'm taking the trees!"

He removed Gaddron's sword from the belt and strapped the sheath's leather wrappings to his back. Now, with his legs unhindered by the hanging sword, he deliberately left the beaten path and climbed up to the trees. Just like a squirrel, he jumped and leaped and glided and bounced through branches and vines and tree crowns on his way to the Church.

An hour later, he reached the forest clearing where St. Ninian's towered majestically over the forest. Jared jumped out of the trees and landed cleanly on the ground. He brushed leaves, twigs, and dirt from his clothes as he approached the giant doors of the sacred building.

Christopher Bronzespike stood at the open entrance of the Church. He broke into a wide beaming grin from ear to ear at the sight of the young squirrel blacksmith.

"Jared!" Christopher wrapped him in a strong bear hug. "You're right on time!" he let Jared go and led the way inside the Church. "Come on in, Mother and Father will be so thrilled to see you!"

They found Gaddron at the large altar at the other end of the chapel, dressed in a sea-blue velvet robe under a crimson-red vestment, and ankle-length muted orange trousers and closed-toed wicker sandals. He wore thick olive-green fingerless leather gloves on his paws. His lederhosen cap with its frayed eagle feather lay unworn on a pew on the left side. He clasped his hands together and bowed his head in silent prayer.

Valia Bronzespike was a tall and robust light-tan hedgemaid and cut a strikingly beautiful figure in a hooded khaki monk-esque robe and leather closed-toed sandals. She carefully lit the brass candelabras on either side of the altar during her husband's solemn prayers. A silver amethyst necklace shone on her wrist in the golden mid-morning sunlight filtering in from the Church's giant stained-glass windows. Christopher and Jared patiently kept their respectful distance in the wide aisle between the pews.

Valia noticed Jared first. She smiled and reached out to lightly squeeze his cheeks. "Good morning, Jared," she whispered delicately and rubbed Jared's face fur affectionately between her fingers. "It is such a blessing to see you again, you wonderful boy. You came here just last week to deliver the jewelry to the Bankvole family, weren't you? What a splendid reunion this is. Now, you must be here to deliver my husband's and son's commissions, yes?" She turned to Gaddron, who had likewise finished his prayers. "Gaddron, Jared Sandeye is here."

Gaddron turned around and widened his eyes in surprise at the squirrel blacksmith standing on the floor below him. "You're late, boy," he reprimanded him. "It's already mid-morning. I remember I specifically told you to deliver the sword and ring immediately _after _breakfast."

The unfazed Jared began loosening the leather straps of the scabbard around his chest. "Yes, I recall that word for word, Gaddron, rest assured." He removed the sword from his back and held it firmly by his side. "But you did not specify which or whose breakfast. So, I chose to deliver the sword and ring after _my _breakfast, not yours."

Taken strongly aback by the squirrel of superior wit, Gaddron rapidly collected his bearings and stepped flustered away from the altar. "I…suppose I cannot argue with that logic. Very well, Jared, you've proved your point. Let us see what you've produced in your blacksmith's forge."

"Before we do that," Valia gently took Jared by the paw and led him through the chapel. "Why don't you come have a snack, Jared? You must be exhausted after your travel here. Won't you have some tea and crumpets with us?"

She directed him to a small dining room in the west corner of the Church, pointing out a round oak table set for three and fetching him a fourth armchair. "Have a seat, Jared, I insist! Make yourself comfortable and I'll pour you some tea. Chris, will you show him where the cream and sugar are? Thank you, sweetheart!"

Jared rested his tired body in a cozy chintz armchair and laid his arms comfortably on the armrests. Valia poured him and her family cups of chamomile tea and laid freshly-baked crumpets on plates. Christopher placed on the table two porcelain gravy bowls of almond milk cream and white granulated sugar, respectively. Jared helped himself while the Bronzespikes seated themselves at the round table.

"Before we get down to business, I want an explanation, Gaddron, and an honest one," Jared laid the sword scabbard and the ring box flat on the table, safely away from the tea set. "You owe me some answers. Why would you, of all creatures, need a sword?"

"Isn't it obvious why anybeast wants a sword?" Gaddron joked, spreading his arms wide to emphasize his point. "For the style, Jared, and nothing less." He laid a freshly-toasted crumpet on his plate and passed the bowl to the squirrel.

But Jared shook his head in firm disagreement as he took a crumpet from the porcelain bowl and gave it to Christopher. "I'm afraid I don't follow your sentiment, Gaddron. Just because you've got a sword doesn't mean you know how to use it. If you own a sword simply for the style, then you're not realizing its true potential."

He shrugged incredulously over his tea and crumpet. "Well, you being a beast of style would've been helpful to know from the start. I would've stylized your sword to your personal preferences, and poured in a lot more time and effort to make it exactly the way you wanted down to the tiniest detail. In any case, since you've made your intentions clear and honest with me, I feel you rightfully deserve to have this."

He stood up and passed the scabbard to Gaddron across the round table, who dramatically drew the steel sword from its leather scabbard. Its six inch-blade glinted in the sunlight that filtered in from the dining room's sole rounded window. Gaddron marveled wide-eyed at its unmistakable magnificence.

"This is most impressive, Jared," he whispered in awe, turning the blade over in his fingers to closely admire every side and angle and edge.

Jared sat back in his chair and nodded thankfully. "It turned out better than I expected, to be honest," he explained in between bites of his crumpet.

"This doesn't look like any type of steel that I've ever seen," Gaddron observed and gently ran his gloved fingers over the smooth blade. "So finely ground with less than a millimeter of material in the fuller of the blade. The absolute perfection of a sword, this is. What metal do you use, may I ask?"

"Glad you asked," Jared swallowed his crumpet and reached into his travel pack to withdraw what looked like a silver-colored rectangular ingot. He balanced it in his paw with no noticeable weight.

"This is called Githinsteel," he elaborated to the hedgehogs. "Named such because it is mined in the caverns deep beneath Githinien in the Eastern Islands. It's the only metal that Eastern blacksmiths will use, and no other."

He tossed it deftly in the air and caught it in his other paw. "Lighter than iron and tougher than folded steel, Eastern Githinsteel is far slower to rust and near-impossible to break. Far superior to your average run-of-the-mill mild steel. What's more, Githinsteel and Eastern silver are indistinguishable from one another; so, in the East, you'd essentially be talking about the same thing."

"How remarkable! Githinsteel!" Gaddron praised and bowed his head thankfully. "Yes, this is indeed a masterpiece of a sword. Well done, indeed. You have thoroughly proven yourself as a blacksmith, Jared Sandeye. You should be proud of yourself!"

Jared packed away the Githinsteel ingot and nodded humbly. "Thank you so much, Gaddron. You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say those appreciative words. I leave that sword in your paws, and a caveat." He leaned in and planted his palms on the table, staring at Gaddron seriously.

"This is something very difficult for me to explain, but I share a certain...connection...of sorts to the weapons that I forge: sword, dagger, spear, shield, and whatever else. I don't quite know how to explain it, but I somehow know when my weapons have been used for means other than which they were originally forged. I somehow become fully aware of the instant when they are wielded with the intent to take a life. I'm not saying it has happened before, but if and when it does, I will know in that exact split second."

Jared left his seat and circled the table sternly to Gaddron's side. raising a finger of warning to the elder hedgehog's nose. "So, mark my words, Gaddron Bronzespike. If you use this sword to shed innocent blood, I _will know_. I'll hunt you down, take my sword back, melt it, and use the molten metal in a future smithing project, and you'll never know the difference. Do I have your word, Gaddron?"

Gaddron gaped wordlessly at the squirrel blacksmith bathed in an almost divine golden-white aura. Even his wife and son dare not take a single breath. Deeply intimidated, he gulped and sheathed the ceremonial sword. "Why, y-yes, Jared Sandeye. You have my word of honor."

Jared nodded firmly. "Good, I trust you'll keep your promise, Gaddron. I'd hate to have to confiscate such an exquisite and flawless bade from a humble and esteemed creature such as yourself. I trust you to take care of it, polish it, sharpen it, and keep it inside its scabbard when you're not showing off the style. That's a lot of responsibility, but I am assured you can handle it." He returned to his chair to finish his crumpet.

"I told my parents about my visit to you on Thursday," Christopher explained between sips of tea after Jared sat down. "While Father initially wasn't happy with it, and my mother didn't want me to bother you in the middle of your important work, I'm happy to tell you that after long thoughtful discussion, they've both approved of my decision to pursue a career as a jeweler."

"That's wonderful, Chris!" the enthused Jared glowed pridefully for his hedgehog friend. "Well, then, in that case, I'm right behind you. At eighteen seasons old, you're certainly old enough to make your own life decisions. You've already got a crash course in cuttlefish casting, so that's an excellent place to start." He patted Christopher's shoulder supportively and removed the ring box from the oilcloth sack to place it in his paws.

Christopher placed his teacup in the saucer and delicately opened the lid of the ring box. There, in a layer of blue felt sat a brightly polished sterling silver peridot ring. When Christopher carefully removed it from the box and slid the ring on his right index finger, the silver glinted in the morning sun and the peridot cast an enchanting green aura around him as he held it up to the light.

"It's so beautiful, Jared..." Christopher whispered, as if in an ethereal trance.

Jared smiled from ear to ear, happily watching the adult hedgehog become fascinated by the jewelry. "Happy birthday, Christopher."

"A peridot ring!" Valia marveled and sported the silver bracelet on her right wrist. The purple gem similarly gleamed in the morning light. "Just like my amethyst bracelet!"

"Yes, indeed, Valia," Jared bowed courteously to Valia and swallowed the last of his crumpet. "I thought of you often while I crafted Christopher's ring, as it too held a gem as yours does. May your amethyst bracelet continue to guide your path through the divine and spiritual, Valia. As for you, Chris, I pray that the peridot in the silver inspires creativity and eloquent inspiration in your pursuit of the jeweling arts. Don't forget, you can always come to me to ask for help, too, even if I am much younger than you."

"Speaking of that, Jared," Valia placed a slice of buttered toast on Jared's plate. "I sincerely must ask, have you ever made anything for yourself before?"

"On that note," Gaddron laid the steel sword by his chair and sat down to accept his piece of toast. "Have you ever made anything _by _yourself before?"

To the hedgehogs' surprise, Jared smirked. "I knew you were going to ask those questions. Let me show you..." He dug into his pack a second time, while Christopher arose from his peridot-induced "trance" and reclaimed his seat. From an outer pocket of his travel pack, Jared withdrew a short steel switchblade.

"This is my switchblade," he explained to the impressed Bronzespikes. "I forged this myself when I was no older than 8 seasons old. Five and a half inches of sharp shiny Githinsteel." He unsheathed the thin keen blade to the astonished hedgehogs, who gasped and jumped in their chairs. Jared went on. "I forged this with my paws not because I was bored, or because I wanted to show off selfishly. I did it because I was curious and wanted to prove myself as a budding blacksmith. Ever since then, I've kept my switchblade, and treated it like a prized possession."

"You wanted to prove yourself as a blacksmith?" Gaddron asked admiringly. "And you were only 8 seasons old? How extraordinary, Jared!"

"You must've been quite the smithing prodigy in the Eastern Islands, Jared," Valia complimented the skilled squirrel. "How old are you now?"

"I'm 16, now. I don't like to brag." Jared meekly explained himself and took a casual bite of his buttered toast. "I think the math speaks for itself. I find humility is a blessing of its own."

"As should we all, and as it should be," Gaddron nodded. He laced his fingers together and glowed proudly at Jared. "Jared Sandeye, these are truly exceptional gifts you have created for us. Dare I venture to say boldly that you have outdone yourself! I suppose Christopher and me owe you favors now, don't we?"

Jared kindly shook his head and raised his palms. "No, you've already given me your word, Gaddron. You promised to care for your sword and use it exclusively for its intended purpose. That is the favor you owe to me. Christopher, the one thing I ask for you, is that when you begin your great adventure into the world of jeweling, that you come to me for mentorship and advice. I'd be more than happy to attend to your needs and provide you with resources, materials, silver, or just simple life advice. You are my friend, Christopher, and I want to help you as much as you've helped me these past few days. Can you do those things, Chris?"

Christopher gave Jared a heartfelt hug around the shoulders. "Indeed, I can, Jared. Every single one. Thank you again for these magnificent gifts."

Jared accepted the hug, then finished his toast. He thanked the Bronzespike family for the flavorful tea and the filling brunch, and they exchanged farewells. Christopher walked him to the doors of the church.

"I think your father and brother are proud of you, Jared." Christopher wrapped his arm around Jared's strong broad shoulders.

A gentle and unassuming smile pulled at Jared's lips. "I believe they are, too."

* * *

On the return to Redwall Abbey, Jared stopped by his forge to open his commission ledger. He put a little checkmark by the Bronzespike name on the list to show that it had been completed and delivered. He closed the ledger and stored it away. A relaxed sigh escaped him. Finally, the job was done. He passed the latter half of the afternoon sweeping and polishing the workspace.

Redwall Abbey was in its usual energetic summer evening bustle when Jared returned to it. Dinnertime came fast. The Redwallers were already filing into the Abbey to gather in Cavern Hole. Unencumbered by Gaddron's scabbard and holding nothing more than the oilcloth sack in his pocket, Jared freely climbed a tree and leaped cleanly onto the ramparts of the eastern wall. He climbed the stairs to the Front Lawn and made his way into the Great Hall.

Great Hall was crisp and comfortingly cool inside its smooth red sandstone walls. Jared basked in the soothing and refreshing cold. A tall brown-yellow harvest mouse dressed in the faded brown of the Order of Redwall stood before the Tapestry of Martin the Warrior.

The harvest mouse turned and nodded at Jared entering the Great Hall. "Good evening, Jared. I haven't seen you all day. How are you, my son?"

Jared genuflected graciously to the portrait of Martin on the Tapestry and bowed to the harvest mouse. "Good evening, Abbot Curtis. I've just returned from St. Ninian's Church to bring a sword and ring as a gift to the Bronzespikes. I am doing quite well; feeling very accomplished."

Abbot Curtis chuckled and squeezed Jared's shoulders affectionately. "I'm glad you're in good health, Jared. You've been working so restlessly hard as of late to fill your blacksmithing commissions. It fills my heart with warmth and relief to see you taking a break to care for yourself. It's been a while since we last spoke face-to-face together, you and me."

He gently moved one paw from the squirrel's shoulder to his cheek and stared deep into his cocoa-brown eyes. "You've grown, Jared, both you and your sister. Wasn't it only two summers ago that you showed up on our doorstep, sent by the ferret herbalist Fernleaf? How time has flown since then!"

Jared sighed at Abbot Curtis' calming touch on his cheek. "Yeah, I guess me and Madeline grew up faster than expected. We're not children anymore. I'm 16 and she's 14. Time passed us by, didn't it, since that fateful day on Redwall Abbey's doorstep. A few members of the Order brought us to you, and you gave us an official welcome to the Abbey. Since then, we've lived here as part of the community, working our hardest to earn our keep. Of course, I make sure to visit Fernleaf when I find the time in between my commissions and blacksmithing runs."

Abbot Curtis wiped a couple of beads of sweat from Jared's temples. "I am positive that Fernleaf appreciates your periodical visits. What a selfless and generous beast he was to save your lives and send you to us. 16 and 14! You have transitioned into adolescence surprisingly well, both of you. I think your family would be pleased with how much you two have grown, whoever they are. Please do not be strangers, you and Madeline. You are part of our Abbey family, and you know that. You are my children, and always will be."

Jared bowed once more to Abbot Curtis, more thankfully this time. "Thank you, Father. I am honored to be part of Redwall Abbey's family." His ears perked up at the mention of his family, and he folded his arms over his chest, furrowing his brow curiously. "That reminds me, Father Abbot. Do you know what today's date is?"

Abbot Curtis tapped his chin and looked up at the ceiling ponderingly. "That's an excellent question, Jared. I believe today is the 3rd of August. Why do you ask?"

Jared gasped sharply, and he clapped his paw to his mouth as the color drained from his face, his eyes widening as if in realization. He slowly backed up and sat down on the cold stone floor of the Great Hall.

"3rd of August..." he whispered almost inaudibly, gobsmacked as if something had struck him directly in the heart. That's the day that our family...our parents and brother...That's what's been stressing us out. All this time, it was in front of our faces. That's what's causing all this anxiety and stress, and why we've been throwing ourselves in our work as a distraction from it."

He stared up at Abbot Curtis, who gaped in concern at him, his eyes sympathetic and non-judgmental. Jared knew at once what he had to do. "I need to apologize to Madeline. We had a heated argument last night when I didn't come home for dinner."

"Yes, she told me about that," Abbot Curtis remarked empathetically. "You had quite the row, the pair of you. Typical of siblings, though that's not for me to judge." He turned as the doors of the Great Hall opened a second time. "Oh, hello, Larina!"

Larina entered the Hall carrying a basket of various nuts under her arm. She smiled at Abbot Curtis. "Hello, Father Abbot." She gave the same to Jared. "Good evening, Jared. I'm hoping to see you at dinner tonight."

Jared immediately sprang to his feet in a distinct gentlemanly manner. "Larina! Have you seen Madeline, perchance?"

Larina nodded and pointed over her shoulder. "Yes, I have. She's been in the greenhouse since lunch with Sister Fanistra and Bethany. Last I checked, she'd headed to the Pond to refill her watering can and bathe. I'm not going to intrude on your sister's privacy while she's in the middle of bathing, so if you go now, you may get to catch her at dinnertime. Oh!"

She was suddenly pulled into a close grateful hug by Jared. A furious red blush colored her cheeks as she nervously hugged him back.

Jared released Larina and held her by the shoulders. "You are brilliant, Larina? Do you know that? I'm sorry I don't say that often, but you are brilliant!"

He turned back to Abbot Curtis. A light of determination glimmered in his cocoa eyes. "No, I can't go to dinner quite yet. I have to set things right."

Before Abbot Curtis could react, Jared too pulled him into a strong hug. "Thank you, Father Abbot! Thank you for reminding me of this important day!" He sprinted out of the Great Hall at full speed towards Cavern Hole, leaving both the Abbot and Larina in a surprised daze (the squirrelmaid with a more noticeable luminescent blush).

"Whatever you plan to do, Jared," Curtis called after him. "Do it speedily, boy! Dinner won't wait for you!"

Down in Cavern Hole, Jared practically weaved through the crowd of Redwallers on his way to the Kitchen. He found Friar Reylia leaning to one side and peering inside a burning semicircular brick oven.

"Friar Reylia!" he called to her above the noise of the chattering creatures. "May I borrow you for a moment, please?"

The short pudgy dormouse Friar Reylia turned and straightened the lopsided chef's hat on her head. Her normally amicable demeanor quickly turned to a harmless scowl. She waved her long wooden ladle from side to side mock threateningly to the young squirrel as she met him at the stone archway that separated the Kitchens from Cavern Hole. In her temper, her chef's hat fell from her head onto the stone floor.

"Jared Sandeye! What's the meaning of this interruption? I'm trying to bake more bread after you swiped half a loaf from me last night to feed your last-minute blacksmithing! Mark my words, boy, if you've come to pilfer my larders again for peanut butter and jam and cheese, I'll smack you up and down your wrists so bloody hard that you won't be able to hold your hammer for a week!"

Jared resisted the urge to roll his eyes and threw up his paws defensively. "Don't worry, Friar Reylia. I haven't come to pilfer any more food from you, I promise." His eyes wandered to a wooden board sitting on the left-side counter, upon which sat a baker's dozen of warm freshly-baked raisin-blueberry scones, their hot teasing aroma wafting about his nostrils. Perhaps unconsciously, his left paw snuck out to try to touch them. "Although I wouldn't mind taking something for a little midnight snack tonight – _yowch_!"

_Whack! _The wooden mallet slammed onto the upside of his wrist almost as hard as his blacksmithing hammer. Jared recoiled and cried out, and shook his hurt paw painfully.

"Ah-_ha_!" Reylia exclaimed with a deep belly laugh. "That'll teach you not to raid my cupboards ever again! Not even a blacksmith is immune to the wrath of Friar Reylia!"

"Okay, okay, you've made your point," Jared rubbed his wrist and winced, respectfully stepping away from the raisin-blueberry scones. He looked the Friar in the eyes and asked honestly, "I wanted to let you know that I'm going to be at dinner tonight. It's the least I can do to make up for not being there yesterday as I should've, with my sister. I know how much you love to experiment with food, so I have some new Eastern Islands dishes in mind that I'd like you to try out."

"You'll be at dinner, eh?" Reylia's expression instantaneously softened from anger to curiosity. She fetched her chef's hat and plopped it back on her dormouse head. "Nice to see a change of character in your normally busy self. I'll be sure to give you and Madeline my best, then."

"Thank you, Friar Reylia!" He high-fived the Friar using his non-smacked paw and shook her paw fervently. "You'll give your best, I know it!"

_Time is of the essence! I need to make sure I do this exactly the way Dad used to do it!_

Jared later sped across the Front Lawns to the greenhouse, where Sister Fanistra was standing and searching her robes. "Sister Fanistra! I need your help!"

Fanistra jumped a foot in the air in shock at his sudden appearance. "Jared! Where on earth did ya come from? What are you doin' here, sweetheart? Ya soun' so urgent. Is somethin' the matter?"

Jared skidded to a stop short of the glass greenhouse door, and he waved his paws dismissively to assure the black-and-brown mousemaid. "No, Sister, I'm fine! Everything's fine! I just came back from St. Ninian's to deliver the Bronzespike commission. I need to make a simple request." He closed his eyes and did a quick breathing exercise, inhaling and exhaling meditatively to calm his nerves. Reopening his eyes, he desperately asked, "I need you to teach me how to make a flower bouquet. Madeline and I got in a terrible argument yesterday, and I know I need to apologize. I want to do it with a flower bouquet because it's the kind of gift that our father used to give to our mother. Now I need you to show me how to do the same thing."

Fanistra blinked once, twice, then thrice. Then a beaming smile spread across her face, and she immediately turned to reopen the greenhouse. "Of course, I will, Jared! But I forgot my key in my dormitory."

Jared reached inside the pocket of his trousers and removed his copy of the greenhouse key, cast in pure Githinsilver. "Don't worry, I've got my key here, Sister Fanistra. I'll let myself in!"

Fanistra nodded and stepped aside to let Jared access the door. "I'd be glad ta help ya make a flower bouquet! Come on in! About time ya got outta that stuffy hot forge of yours. Ya absolutely need to see what Madeline an' I have created in th' greenhouse!"

Jared breathed a huge sigh of relief and let himself inside the greenhouse.

"Whoa."

A curtain of flowers washed over him like a wave of rainbow-colored water. Each floret glowed brighter than any gem or crystal in the afternoon light in all spectrums of the rainbow. Jared found himself wrapped in a mellow and homely naturalistic aura, and the flowers cast their magical relaxing and pacifying spell on him. He felt his stress, anxiety, and aches and pains melt away, falling from his nerves like dripping water. He relaxed and unwound, the pressure his joints suffered from jumping through the trees to and from the Church instantly disappearing.

"Sister Fanistra..." he whispered, wonderstruck. "It's beautiful..."

"We finished it this mornin', dear, while ya were at St. Ninian's," Fanistra explained, coming inside after him. "I'm sure Madeline told ya about tha sunflowers we planted yesterday, an' Bethany brought over these daylilies an' lavenders there." She gestured to the new flowers in question on the left-side table beside the periwinkles and hydrangeas.

Jared turned to her with sincere eyes. "All right, Sister Fanistra. You've made flower bouquets before. I'd be honored if you'd teach me how it's done."

Fanistra patted him assuringly on the head and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. "Nobeast better ta learn from than tha expert. Roll up yar sleeves, Jared. Do somethin' other than blacksmithin' fer once. I'll show ya how a flower bouquet is assembled; an' I know exactly tha proper flowers for this occasion."

Jared opened the cabinet and retrieved scissors from the metal box. He stopped at the lightweight silver tool lying flat in his palms, and he smiled in wonderment. He held the scissors to his lips and closed his eyes, imagining Madeline using this tool every single day and thinking of him. It was time to do the same for her.

"Mother..." he whispered the same words that his sister often spoke to herself. "Be my gardening muse..."

* * *

Sister Fanistra informed Madeline that Jared wanted to see her in their bedroom. Madeline, thinking something was wrong, immediately made haste, still dressed in her gardening apron. She found Jared standing in the doorway of their shared bedroom. He wore a plain white sailor suit, including the traditional navy-blue ribbon tied in a sailor's hitch, and knee-length sea-blue trousers and his usual wicker sandals. He also held his arms curiously behind his back.

Madeline raised her eyebrows at her brother's suspiciously calm demeanor. "Jared? What are you doing?"

Jared smiled lovingly at his sister, his expression warm and bright. "I'm not doing anything bad if that's what you're wondering. I just wanted to..."

He dramatically produced the bouquet from behind his back. "Surprise you."

Madeline gasped aloud at the sight of the bouquet, composed of one of every single flower in the greenhouse. The mild hydrangeas and periwinkles cleanly contrasted the luminous yellow and orange marigolds and bolder pink and red roses. The radiant petals of the sunflower, daylily, and lavender glowed in the moonlight. Madeline graciously took the bouquet and admired each flower. Then she looked up at Jared, who instead looked down at his sandals in shame.

"Madeline...I wanted to apologize for getting angry at you yesterday, for missing dinner, and our argument that we shouldn't have had. I was being selfish, so consumed in my work, and desperate to get it done that I forgot about everything else. I'm a total jerk. You were right, I did more than I could handle from the Bronzespike order. I should've stayed at home and eaten dinner, and spent the rest of the night with you." He glanced up and met his sister's eyes, clasping her paws in his and holding the precious bouquet between them. "That's what I'm going to do tonight, Maddie. For this weekend, I'm all yours. No commissions and no blacksmithing. You have me all to yourself. All I'm asking for is your forgiveness. Can you forgive me, Madeline?"

Madeline threw herself onto her brother's neck and squeezed him tight to her. "Yes, Jared! I can indeed forgive you, and I do, for everything! You have my forgiveness, Jared, now and forever!"

Jared laughed as his sister wrapped her arms around his neck, a genuine cheerful hopeful laugh, brighter than any he'd ever laughed in many days. "Thank you, Madeline, thank you so much!"

Madeline giggled and planted loving kisses on her brother's face; on his cheeks, nose, and forehead. She pulled away and beheld her brother's gift. "A flower bouquet..." she realized. "Like the ones Dad used to give her."

Jared nodded in confirmation. "I realized what's been stressing us out, Maddie, this shadow that's been hanging over us. Gaddron Bronzespike set his deadline for Saturday, August 3rd. Well, August 3rd has come to us. Remember? That's the day Mom and Dad and Edoran –,"

"The day they died, I know, Jared," Madeline agreed, a small lump forming in her throat. She quickly swallowed it and told her brother, "They wouldn't want us to mourn for them. They'd want us to move on and keep them in our hearts. They'd want us to be happy, to live together and take care of each other. Redwall Abbey is teaching us that, and so was Fernleaf. We need to pick ourselves up and carry on without them, and live our new lives side by side, as siblings."

Jared took his sister's face in his paws and held her close. "That's exactly what we're going to do from now on, and the same way we always have been: together, side by side, as siblings. Tonight is about our family; you, me, Edoran, and Mom and Dad. It's what they would've wanted. Let us cherish every second of every minute we share on this unforgettable night."

He waited for Madeline to change her work clothes for a simple emerald-green silk dress shirt and forest-green trousers; her favorite outfit. When she finished, he offered his arm to her. "So, shall we go to dinner, dear Madeline?"

Madeline giggled and laced her arm in Jared's, holding the bouquet in her other paw. "Yes, we shall go to dinner, dearest Jared."

Jared escorted Madeline to Cavern Hole, where they received a table to themselves. Friar Reylia did indeed give her best for the siblings. They enjoyed a hearty feast of rye bread with sliced lettuce, tomatoes, and cheddar cheese; and white rice, baked salmon and raspberry sauce, and vegetable stew. As they ate, Jared told her about his delivery of the sword and ring to the Bronzespikes, how Gaddron and Christopher reacted to their respective presents. Madeline described how she, Sister Fanistra, and Bethany organized the flower "rainbow" in the greenhouse and was overjoyed at her brother's beyond impressed reaction to seeing the finished product. While they split a dessert of custard cake, they reminisced about their favorite memories of their Eastern family, fondly remembering the good times and acknowledging the bad in moderate passing. They likewise selflessly shared their food with interested fellow Redwallers.

Jared lay on his back in bed that night, his sailor's clothes on the chair with Madeline's green shirt and trousers. He turned on his side and wrapped his arms around his sister. She cuddled close to him and rested a paw on his bare chest, the other under her pillow.

"I love you so much, Madeline," he professed sincerely to her as he caressed her bare back up and down and over her midriff affectionately. "I know I don't say that enough, but I do truly love you, my sister. You are the best botanist and gardener I know, and I reckon you've created the most beautiful flower masterpiece that will give life and love to Redwall for many seasons to come."

Madeline laid her paw on her brother's heart and stared deep into his eyes fondly. "And you are my favorite blacksmith, Jared. I love you too, my brother, so very much. Mom and Dad and Edoran are watching over us from the afterlife, I'm certain of it. They're proud of what we've accomplished, but most of all, they're proud that we're still siblings."

"As they always wanted," Jared's eyelids drooped tiredly. "Every time I do my blacksmithing from now on, I'll think of you. Whenever I start a new project, I'll wonder what you'll think of it. I've always done my blacksmithing work for you; never for myself. I want you to remember that for the rest of your life. Now, go to sleep. Let's not think about tomorrow. This night is ours. Goodnight, my beloved Isidith." He spoke her Eastern name tenderly, respectfully, reverently.

Madeline sighed, soothed to sleep by her brother's soft caresses. She rested her head and palms on her brother's chest. "Goodnight, my dear Tinarandel."


End file.
